


Love Bites (But So Do I)

by WynneWritesHQ



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: 2011 HXH Means Hisoka Has Red Hair, Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, BDSM, Biting, Blood, Bloodplay, Blowjobs, Choking, Degradation, Degrading Dirty Talk, Dick Headcanons Ahoy, Facials, Feeding Cum, Hair Pulling, Hearts & Spades & Clubs & Diamonds As Punctuation, Impact Play, Inappropriate Use Of Needles, Inappropriate Use Of Nen, Inappropriate Use Of Texture Surprise, Inappropriate use of bungee gum, M/M, Masochism, Mention of sex toys, Needles, Nipple Play, Oral Fixation, Overstimulation, Pain, Present Tense, S&M, Sadism, Slapping, Slurs, Spanking, Switching, Temperature Play, The Author Doesn’t Know What Is Too Dirty™, Violence, Watch The Author Avoid The Word “Straight” In A Gay Sex-Scene, bdsm undertones, bungee gum - Freeform, dirty talking, fucked up sex, handjobs, mention of cock rings, overuse of names, pleasure and pain, self-indulgent work, sexual fantasies, texture surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 17:05:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18898957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WynneWritesHQ/pseuds/WynneWritesHQ
Summary: Hisoka loves sex. That’s not a secret; a lot of people know that, and even a greater number can deduce it from how he fights, full of risks, and of flashiness, and of downright gore. What people tend not to see, is that he likes the kind of sex that leaves him as spent as marked, sometimes with his partner bleeding profusely onto the sheets, sometimes bleeding himself.So, for Hisoka, it is a relief that Illumi likes this kind of sex, too.[Note: PLEASE HEED THE TAGS; and please be conscious that this piece of fiction contains everything stated in them.]





	Love Bites (But So Do I)

**Author's Note:**

> I am trash and I know it. This is the result of my trashiness. It’s also pre-nuptial arrangement and littered with my own headcanons (and dick-canons), especially for Illumi.
> 
> Trigger Warnings: everything stated in the tags.  
> Note: the slur (“g*psy”) is said by Kikyo Zoldyck. It’s referred to, not a part of the smut itself. No character says it in the smut (although Illumi and Hisoka degrade each other during sex).

Hisoka loves sex. That’s not a secret; a lot of people know that, and even a greater number can deduce it from how he fights, full of risks, and of flashiness, and of downright gore. What people tend not to see, is that he likes the kind of sex that leaves him as spent as marked, sometimes with his partner bleeding profusely onto the sheets, sometimes bleeding himself.

So, for Hisoka, it is a relief that Illumi likes this kind of sex, too.

It’s almost ironic, what with how poised and correct Illumi presents himself. And yet, when they’re both here, inside a shared room, all of Illumi’s composure is thrown out of the window. Or maybe he doesn’t do it himself, and merely lets Hisoka take charge for a moment – as out of character as that sounds.

Hisoka smiles his usual arrogant grin, enjoying the way Illumi’s hair flares like a curtain around him. This spectacle appeals to Hisoka on a primal level, more intimately than a mere kiss ever would. He can only see one of Illumi’s black eyes behind his equally black hair, just like every single time when Illumi’s bloodlust consumes him.

Hisoka’s smile widens, eyes half-closing in pleasure. This creature in front of him has been trained to kill since childhood – maybe even from infancy – this one could easily rip Hisoka apart. The thought, as glaringly terrifying to others as it might be, only serves to excite Hisoka more.

A drawn-out moan escapes Hisoka’s half-parted lips when Illumi’s piercing gaze focuses on him, and him alone. For a moment, all light coming in from the windows is obstructed by dozens of crows taking flight, loud cries drowning Hisoka’s own sounds. He wonders if Illumi has heard him over his own bloodlust. In the end, that matters not; but Hisoka is prideful enough to know that he _wants_ Illumi to know exactly what effect he has over Hisoka.

For a moment, neither of them moves. Hisoka continues to just kneel on the floor, arms hanging limp at his sides, right where he landed after Illumi sent him flying. Illumi still looms over him, standing at his front, tall and dark and desiring the kill.

Then, Hisoka’s grin parts enough for his tongue to roam his lower lip, from side to side. He hopes it'll be sexual enough for Illumi to catch his drift.

Not a second after Illumi caught the movement, there’s a powerful hand curled around Hisoka’s neck. It doesn’t let him move, doesn’t even let him breathe. Hisoka tries to swallow and finds out he can’t – giddiness explodes inside of him.

Illumi is close, now; close enough for Hisoka to feel his breath. Long tresses caress Hisoka’s exposed arms – at least he chose the perfect day to wear one of his characteristic, sleeveless, crop-tops.

Black eyes fix on Hisoka’s amber ones. Hisoka opens his mouth a bit more, the tip of his tongue still hanging in between his lips, tantalizingly sexual.

Does he want to destroy Illumi, or does he want Illumi to destroy him? Well, it doesn’t matter. He isn’t particularly picky.

Illumi leans in even more, his nose almost brushing against Hisoka’s. The redhead withstands his stare, returns it in kind, and the pressure around his neck increases. Hisoka would’ve moaned long and loud, but he’s too pinned-down for that. Illumi knows it, yet he doesn’t give him pause. Hisoka has been unabashedly teasing him all throughout their little sparring contest, has triggered Illumi’s lust in ways he thought impossible to achieve.

He deserves to be punished. Even if he’ll enjoy it a little too much for it to be truly a punishment.

Illumi pushes backwards on Hisoka’s neck, forcing his spine to bend. The posture cannot be comfortable, but Hisoka merely moans – and not in protest. His body has gone limp; he’s accepting everything Illumi deigns appropriate to give him. The rush of power gets to Illumi’s crotch before it does to his head.

Illumi keeps pushing until they reach the point where Hisoka can’t physically bend more. He’s flexible, Illumi knows from seeing him fight (and from fighting against him), but it seems that even he has a limit. Upon reaching it, Hisoka just throws his head back, exposing his neck more fully. His eyes are still locked with Illumi’s, though – defying him, even while losing.

Just like when he fights.

Illumi’s hand relents a little, but only because he knows he would end up _killing_ Hisoka if he doesn’t. Hisoka whines at that, letting Illumi know just how fucked-up he is.

Not that Illumi is one to judge, though. Or, more precisely, he _cannot_ judge. Not when he’s as fucked-up as Hisoka is. The question of who’s more dangerous hangs in the heavy air, heady and unanswered. Illumi knows that Hisoka would answer “Illumi”; but Illumi himself would answer “Hisoka”.

Maybe this is why they work so well together. Illumi has done missions where he’s fought, verbally and physically, with those supposed to aid him. For example, he’s always bickered _a fucking lot_ with his own siblings when forced to do a contract alongside them. But he never argues that badly with Hisoka.

Then again, he can resolve disputes with Hisoka in ways he cannot apply with his siblings. Not to mention that simply showing bloodlust, or using an authoritative tone of voice, are enough to discipline his siblings; but only turn Hisoka _the fuck_ on.

Weird. And twisted. But also strangely appealing, because it means Illumi doesn’t need to hold back.

Illumi combines the hand at Hisoka’s neck with putting his free hand on his chest, pushing Hisoka back. The lower angle makes Hisoka’s ass hit the ground, thighs falling open. Long legs sprawl open on either side of Illumi, both his palms leaning on the floor to support his weight.

Illumi still holds him by the neck, though; feeling powerful and in control. In his line of work, this sensation is usual – in fact, he’s used to it by now, and yet…

… it’s _completely different_ when it’s _Hisoka_ he’s dominating.

Hisoka lets out a small sound, and Illumi can feel him swallowing. The seconds pass around them, audible only because of the half-beaten clock at one corner of the room. Oh, they don’t even know whose room this is… and they don’t care. Its owner will come back to find it destroyed by their passion. And that’s alright. It lets them know they’re healthy.

Although any psychologist would probably disagree profoundly, especially given their extreme kinks and violent tendencies in sex.

“What will you do to me, Illumi?” Hisoka asks, voice strained for obvious reasons. His tone is low, maybe a half-octave below his usual sing-sang. His eyes narrow, more on reflex than entirely consciously, because he knows perfectly well how most people would’ve trembled upon hearing this lowered tone.

Illumi, however, is not most people.

“What do you want me to do to you?” Illumi bites back. He’s completely calm; and he doesn’t alter the pressure, either – what for, if Hisoka can clearly speak now?

“ _Ruin me_.” Hisoka moans. It makes Illumi twist inside. “ _Destroy me._ ”

Illumi does tremble now, like a leaf in strong winds. He’s not exactly new to sex, and yet he always feels somewhat virginal whenever he finds himself receiving Hisoka’s unaltered attention. Not that Hisoka would ever change the way he is just to please others, though. Not even a lover’s, no, not even _Illumi’s_ attention would ever make him change.

Illumi doesn’t want him to change. He just wants to ruin him.

And he knows exactly where to start. His bloodlust seems to have calmed down a bit, judging from how his hair is falling straight around his shoulders. That lust for the kill is now replaced by an even greater urge, one that leaves him very few sane thoughts inside his half-hazed brain. And so, Illumi raises one hand, not missing the way Hisoka follows the motion with half-closed, hungry eyes. Then, Illumi lets it fall, swift and open, against Hisoka’s cheek.

The Magician literally moans out loud at being slapped, that sick bastard. He does not think twice about moaning even louder when Illumi slaps him again. Both hits have targeted more or less the same place, so now half of Hisoka’s face is more reddened than the other. He doesn’t complain about that, either. The golden star he draws on that cheek is a bit smudged, Illumi notices. His own perfectionism, drilled into him by his family’s high expectations of their assassin son, flares up.

The star can either stay perfectly on, or be gone completely. This half-assed state is bothering him.

Illumi brings his hand down on Hisoka’s cheek again, although much more gently. Hisoka looks like he had been bracing for impact – anticipating it, even – so the wicked smile is gone from his face when the hit doesn’t come. Illumi’s brow is furrowed as he scrubs at Hisoka’s face, almost forcing him to close that eye.

Once the star is gone, Illumi’s perfectionist side calms down too. Hisoka is starting to smile again, as if he’s already learnt what the problem was. Illumi purses his lips into a tight line, and promptly slaps him again.

Hisoka takes the hit with pride and a moan, sly smile widening into a grin not unlike the one he sports when fighting a good opponent. Illumi’s pride is inflated at that grin, at its implications, at what he now knows Hisoka thinks of him. The Magician is looking at him like he expected more, though. Illumi tightens his grip around his neck until he knows the redhead cannot breathe at all. Hisoka’s eyes close slowly, submissive to a fault, but he doesn’t stop smiling.

That fucking smile heats Illumi up inside.

He lets go of Hisoka’s neck for a moment, claws at the ridiculously short crop-top until it’s in ribbons. Hisoka shifts his arms from one side to the other, to help Illumi get the now-tattered cloth away from his shapely body – because, yes, the fucker knows he’s hot. He also had enough sense in that head full of air to not wear anything underneath his top.

Now Hisoka is on full display, cutting a chiselled figure made of powerful muscle and cording sinew. He’s dangerous, Illumi knows, all coiled strength under him. Illumi’s gaze rests heavy on Hisoka’s chest, following the marked lines of his pectorals. Then, the Magician flexes his abdominals, most likely consciously (it still looked like the opposite). Illumi knows he doesn’t need to restrain himself; he’s free to touch and caress and slap and bite and _bleed_ wherever he wants to.

That knowledge instils a newfound power inside Illumi’s gut; and he doesn’t even try to restrain his hands when they move again. His left returns in a fist to Hisoka’s neck, a bit too insistently for Illumi to deny that he likes the feeling. Hisoka grins wide, pleased, twisted desire shining inside his eyes. He rumbles lowly, sounding almost like a purring cat, when the assassin’s right hand lands heavily on his chest.

Illumi isn’t shy in the streets, Hisoka knows – the raven-haired has always struck him as poised, coiled, both in and out the sheets. It’s almost like he’s just too in control of his own passions to emotionally misfire. And yet Illumi is now moving on pure instinct, long fingers roaming freely over Hisoka’s skin.

To the aflame Magician, those hands feel like the purest of marbles. Cool, but not cold. Smooth, but not spotless. Illumi has been on so many assassination missions for his family that there are little callouses on his fingertips, white lines on the back of his hands. Hisoka suddenly wants to know what that evenly skin tastes like – he’s already sampled so many different people, different ages and genders and orientations, but that pales in comparison with Illumi’s equally pale, yet forbidden, skin.

After all, all that probing and proving was only for fun, to live vicariously. The fires that worthy opponents awake in Hisoka last only for as long as it takes him to break them, and then he’s left with ashes and apathy. But it’s different with Illumi; this black-haired man could _break_ Hisoka before he could land a single Bungee-Gum rope on him.

The hand on his chest reaches Hisoka’s abdominals, the ridges of the muscle made evident by how much he’s flexing – deliciously, without a second thought. Illumi’s darkened gaze falls on Hisoka’s own, his hand slowly stopping its exploring.

Hisoka looks up with feigned innocence. He’s not exactly surprised to find Illumi frowning at him, lips pursed tightly. Hisoka gives him a wide, teasing grin – he hopes it will piss Illumi off enough to slap Hisoka again. In that moment, it’s clear that Illumi does _not_ believe that tiny spasm of his abs was involuntary. Illumi knows perfectly well that Hisoka certainly is sly enough to play him like that.

So Illumi’s hand leaves his skin.

Hisoka wants to whine, to revolve, to _force_ Illumi to keep touching him. He does not like being denied.

The hand around his neck tightens as much as Illumi’s strength allows it to. Hisoka moans, goes limp again. Illumi’s eyes lose just a sliver of edge. Hisoka takes it like praise.

“Good boy.” Illumi says, _sotto-voce_. His voice resounds low, the words almost like a mockery. He knows, then. “Stay quiet for me.”

Hisoka knows better than to fall in that trap. His smile turns deadly, like it would when he’s fighting for his life. He’s physically stronger than Illumi, even if only very slightly – how much exactly, neither knows – and he takes full advantage of that.

Illumi lets out an entirely undignified sound when Hisoka takes him by surprise, pushing until Illumi falls back. For a split second, Illumi thinks that the only thing that’s going to happen is that their positions will be reversed. But, just as he’s mentally prepared to end up sitting on his ankles, a slender hand curls around his thigh.

Illumi barely has enough time to frown before Hisoka is forcing his legs to extend. Illumi lands on his ass with a muffled _thud_ , an insistent redhead between his parted thighs. A hot mouth is at his neck, savouring without biting. Illumi lets out a tiny sound – against his will, _of course_. Illumi fights (and almost fails) against the urge to close his eyes under Hisoka’s appealing treatment of him.

He almost doesn’t realise that one of his hands has landed on the floor beside him, that the other is still on Hisoka. When he does realise, his tight grip moves from the front to the back of the neck. Hisoka moans again, as vocal in bed as he is outside of it, doesn’t fight back. Illumi takes it as a small victory, presses his fingertips to the lowest roots of Hisoka’s hair. He idly wonders, and not for the first time, whether this red comes from dye or nature.

Knowing Hisoka’s flair, it can go either way. Not that Illumi’s going to ask him, anyway.

Illumi’s fingers are tender at first. Hisoka isn’t really hurting him, so he has no reason to hurt Hisoka. He can feel Hisoka mouthing at a certain point, though – right where his pulse is most evident. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve taken Hisoka for a vampire. That certainly would explain his lust for blood, both in and out of the ring.

Hisoka bites down hard on his neck. Illumi groans, grabs his hair, forces him to move closer. Hisoka eagerly complies, moaning hotly through parted lips, tongue coming out to lick at the seeping blood. He doesn’t want to let a single droplet escape him, much as he likes to see Illumi covered in red, and in white, and even purple sometimes.

But it feels much better when he knows he’s been the source of those colours.

A thin river streams downwards, under Illumi’s collar. Hisoka’s hands grab the cloth, his mouth never leaving Illumi’s skin. When he makes good use of his strength to rip it off Illumi, he’s pleasantly surprised to hear no protest. He feels a hand going over his corded muscles, and suddenly he has a good guess why.

“Like what you feel?” he asks. Each word brushes the bitemark, and he can feel Illumi trembling beneath him.

“Yes.” Illumi answers plainly. He sounds unperturbed, but only because he took in a steadying breathe before speaking. Hisoka knows that, because he’s felt Illumi’s chest expand with it.

“Then, feel me more.” Illumi has read enough of Hisoka’s text messages for a red heart emoji to float in his mind at the end of Hisoka’s words.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, either. The hand on Hisoka’s hair moves down, to his broad shoulders. It’s easy to feel Hisoka’s strength – he looks slender and thin, but only because he’s so tall that it’s easy to overlook the muscle beneath his clothes. Now, though, disrobed and up-close, Illumi can almost make out each individual part of him.

Hisoka kisses the mark he’s left, and Illumi can’t help but _moan_. Hisoka smirks against him, rolls his shoulders to force Illumi’s hand a bit further down. It’s laughably easy for Illumi to tug Hisoka closer, and he does so, promptly directing his mouth to the opposite side of his neck. Hisoka gives him a new bite, and Illumi trembles again.

Illumi would love to be able to sit a bit more upright, because that would mean he can lift his other hand from the ground. If he were to do that right now, though, he’d have to lean heavily on Hisoka. And he knows perfectly well that the Magician is too tricky to give him such power over Illumi.

Then, why is it that he _wants_ to give Hisoka that power?

He doesn’t have time to answer before his hand is quickly flying upwards, before he’s clinging to Hisoka with all his might. The redhead moves a hand to Illumi’s back, holds him in place much more easily than Illumi had thought he could. It would make Illumi feel small, if he didn’t know he’s tall enough to look Hisoka in the eye when they walk side by side. And Illumi himself has enough muscle to be considered strong beyond his Nen, too.

Hisoka laughs, short and low, setting Illumi aflame. He tangles his fingers in long, black hair; tugs softly on it to take Illumi closer to him – _well_ , Illumi thinks, brain short-circuiting a little, _this is new_. Hisoka is never soft. Illumi doesn’t know how to react.

Unbridled strength forces him down on his ass again. Long fingers slip underneath his trousers. Sharp teeth piercing his skin again.

Ah, so that’s why he’s suddenly so gentle. Illumi frowns deeply, half-annoyed, but doesn’t force Hisoka away.

“Trickster.” He accuses.

“Are you only realising that now?” Hisoka teases him right back, shameless. His voice undulates like his hips when he moves more fully on top of Illumi.

“No.” Illumi’s tone is almost lifeless, directly contradicting the source of life born from his crotch. He’s awakened, in more ways than one, when Hisoka seems to read his mind. “Do you really think me so stupid?”

“No.” Hisoka is almost laughing – another emoji forms inside Illumi’s mind; a black club, this time. “I just enjoy you.”

Illumi has no answer to that. Or, at least, no answer beyond a moan he managed to cut short before its sound gets too obvious. Still, he’s aware that Hisoka has heard him perfectly fine. Hisoka’s reaction is limited to closing his legs a bit more, until his inner thigh touches the external side of Illumi’s. Black eyes stare at him, deadlier than death itself, and Hisoka grins.

His fingertips are brushing against Illumi’s crotch, although he’s certainly close enough to fully take Illumi in hand if he wanted to. Illumi groans from the depths of his throat, watches Hisoka shiver suddenly, much more affected by it than he probably wants to admit.

In this new position, Illumi’s both hands are free to roam wherever they want to. He promptly slaps Hisoka, _hard_ , frowning when Hisoka has the audacity to moan, looking at Illumi in such a way that it earns him a new hit. He’s so fucking _dirty_ , Illumi loves it.

Now he’s sufficiently turned on to admit that.

Hisoka laughs low. The sound goes directly to Illumi’s crotch. Hisoka cocks his head to one side, curiosity plain on his gaze. But it’s not sane and innocent; it’s the same brand he sports when he’s mentally wondering what will happen to his fight if he cuts off his adversary’s arm.

Illumi recognises it instantly, but still doesn’t fret – his family has made sure that he’s unsensitised to all emotion, good and bad. Hisoka could easily kill him, is probably considering it when he has that expression in his face, and yet Illumi doesn’t fear him.

Illumi doesn’t entertain the idea of there being any underlying reasons, because that would mean questioning his will to live, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for that just yet. Existential crises are certainly not something he wants to have during sex.

And so, Illumi regains his focus, in the form of a “ _you wouldn’t_ dare” kind of expression drawn in his features. It throws Hisoka off-balance enough for his smile to disappear. Hisoka is further unbalanced when tight fingers close forcefully around him. Or at least around the parts of him made obvious by his skin-tight trousers. Hisoka moans in surprise and pleasure alike, eyes fixing on Illumi’s own.

For a split second, Illumi thinks he’s deterred Hisoka enough to continue. But that devilish, curious expression is still inside Hisoka’s amber eyes.

“Don’t you _dare_.” Illumi warns him again.

“Don’t you want me to?” Hisoka mutters. His fingertips press more firmly against the underside of Illumi’s cock. Illumi resists it, tells himself he won’t buckle up. “You’d enjoy it. Promised.”

Even though Illumi knows Hisoka’s promise will most likely be maintained, he still doesn’t sway. What sets him off is Hisoka’s tone, so warm and yet ripe with a certain kind of mockery. The same kind he uses to taunt his toys with. Ire explodes inside Illumi once more, a new round of crows obscuring the windows.

“You’re more than that to me.” Hisoka’s voice sounds quite different now. But that might only be because Illumi’s hand is at his neck again. “You’re not a mere toy.”

“ _Prove it_.” Illumi demands. His hair is still flaring, occulting his eyes.

“How can I, when you’re not letting me?” Hisoka retorts. He doesn’t sound like he’s mocking Illumi. “Or, more exactly, you’re not letting yourself.”

The blood-lusted wave passes as suddenly as it’d arrived. Hisoka slowly moves a hand towards Illumi, sets the curtain of his hair aside from his eyes. The first thing Illumi sees is Hisoka knelt above his hips, trousers too tight for comfort at his crotch.

Illumi’s hands move before his brain catches up with them, lowering the clothe until Hisoka’s erection springs free. He moans, looks down to himself. He’s long where Illumi is a bit thicker, leaking pearly white when Illumi’s touch falls directly upon him. A quick glance tells Illumi that Hisoka is resisting the urge to moan – the Magician is biting his lower lip so hard that it’s bleeding, and his eyes are half-closed.

Illumi reaches up, leaving Hisoka’s cock in favour of his mouth. Unsurprisingly, Hisoka immediately opens up. He’s dirty enough to have zero complains about tasting his own come on Illumi’s fingers – hell, he probably likes that. Illumi certainly admits to liking it himself. Hisoka’s tongue swirls around Illumi’s fingers, slickening them, and a new moan spills forth.

“Dirty bastard.” Illumi accuses him. This time, though, he sounds like he could be accusing himself and still be right.

Hisoka’s mouth is a bit too full for him to be able to answer with words. Instead, he swirls his tongue around Illumi’s fingers again, parting them, slipping his tongue in between. Amber eyes open slowly, looking at Illumi’s.

Illumi could have sworn he was physically incapable of blushing, but Hisoka has just proven him wrong.

In retaliation, Illumi slides his other hand down, from Hisoka’s shoulder to his chest, stopping only when he reaches one pink nipple. Illumi doesn’t really know what Hisoka likes and dislikes, because a few quick fuckings don’t leave room to try a lot, but knows Hisoka’s so twisted that Illumi’s more likely to do things right. After all, Hisoka seems to have no hard limits – seems like everything will please him, one way or another.

It gives Illumi a certain kind of security, to know he could slap or caress Hisoka, and it still would have the same effect. It’s almost liberating, in a way; Illumi’s sure that it will be easier to find something that Illumi himself dislikes, than something that makes Hisoka back off completely.

And letting his fingertips tug hard on Hisoka’s nipple makes the Magician moan high, head falling backwards, Illumi’s fingers slipping over his velvety tongue until they are out of his mouth. Illumi’s own lips open in protest. He feels that loss acutely, realises that he loves how he can physically feel Hisoka’s breathe on his knuckles when he’s buried deep inside his mouth.

Not to mention the marvels that Hisoka’s tongue can work. It makes Illumi want to feel him licking elsewhere.

But the fact remains: Hisoka has done something Illumi doesn’t like, so he must be punished for it. And, if Hisoka likes a slap, he should be punished some other way.

“Illumi…” Hisoka whines when Illumi’s hands withdraw entirely from him. He sounds submissive once more – for once, no emoji appears in Illumi’s mind.

“Beg.” Illumi orders. Unbeknownst to Hisoka, Illumi is using the same stern tone he used to use when his siblings were kids and refused to obey. What Hisoka does know, though, is that that authoritative voice _turns him the fuck on_.

“Touch me more, Illumi…” Hisoka whines, sounding like he does when he taunts an enemy. Illumi closes his mouth, knowing he’ll appear more severe that way. Years of experience disciplining his siblings say he’s right about that. “ _Please_ …”

Strangely enough, what gets Illumi is not the word by itself – it’s the way it’s said – warm, but not from mockery; muttered, but not in a low volume. Which is a damned contradiction. Then again, so is Hisoka himself.

At any rate, Illumi is quite pleased. So he gives Hisoka something to keep his cock interested.

Hisoka moans, chest arching into Illumi’s touch, his nipple angry-red.

“Sick bastard.” Illumi observes, sounding as neutral as he would when discussing tomorrow’s weather. Hisoka allows himself to grin; he knows himself well enough to not protest that.

Because both know that he _is_.

Then again, so is Illumi.

“Do I have to thank you for your troubles?” Hisoka taunts, desperately trying to appear in control of himself – there’s a reddish hue over his face, and not only from how much he’s been slapped.

Stars and Moon above, he wants to be slapped more.

Illumi pauses, fingers still holding Hisoka’s nipple, although without pressure. He seems to be considering Hisoka’s words. It’s a bit like he hadn’t thought about that until Hisoka brought it up. It also is a sharp reminder that Illumi has less sexual experience – or, rather, that Hisoka has slept around too much to not know these things.

Hisoka lets him have time, as much time as he needs, to roll the thought over. If Illumi wants him to thank him, though, he will. He knows himself well enough to know that. Illumi’s free hand silently finds Hisoka’s cock, and the redhead buckles his hips into the touch – he’s curious, he wants to know whether he’ll be praised or chastised.

Turns out that Illumi isn’t touching him for Hisoka’s benefit. But that was easy to guess. Those long fingers are coated in thick white, so much that they glisten when light hits them just right. The contact is too little for Hisoka to feel much pleasure from it, because Illumi is deliberately avoiding the most sensitive places. He’s a quick learner, Hisoka tells himself, of course he’d pick up bedroom cues as easily as he picked up the Nen lessons he undoubtedly had in his youth.

Illumi’s fingers are covered to almost the start of his palm when he moves his hand away from Hisoka’s cock. The redhead wants to whine a protest, but he never gets the chance.

Illumi’s fingertips are pressing against his lips, furrowed from moisture. Hisoka automatically opens his mouth, aching to feel them on his tongue again. Illumi penetrates him effortlessly, as if this is something he’s done a thousand times, and not a recent discovery. His easiness makes Hisoka wonder if Illumi has had any partner who liked this kind of thing – oral fixations aren’t the most common kink, but they’re also not the rarest. And Hisoka himself has certainly done much worse.

Amber eyes fall closed when Illumi slides his middle finger over Hisoka’s tongue, reaching as far inside as he physically can. Had Hisoka been inexperienced, he would’ve had a hard time – _pun fucking intended_ – relaxing his throat enough. Illumi’s fingers are long, after all, and he’s not exactly being gentle.

Hisoka lets reason wane. He merely accepts Illumi’s prodding, curling his tongue just enough to feel flavour exploding at the back of his tongue. A moan escapes him when he curls the tip of his tongue around Illumi’s heart finger, feeling the digit curve right along with him.

Illumi’s fingers press even deeper. Hisoka moans, keeping his tongue flat – he guesses that Illumi would enjoy it more if he can fully dominate him. And it’s not a secret that Illumi _is_ getting off on this.

The tip of Hisoka’s tongue licks at Illumi’s palm, and they moan at the same time.

Illumi moves his free hand to Hisoka’s hair. The locks are starting to get tousled, some falling over his forehead, some still held upright in his usual hairstyle. Still, it feels soft to Illumi’s touch – come to think about it, all of Hisoka felt soft. Which contrasts with his personality, but not so much with his Nen.

Illumi knows what it feels like to have that pink Bungee Gum on him because he is feeling it now.

He allows the fingers inside Hisoka’s mouth to relax, focuses his Nen. It’s hard to believe that he’s been so distracted by the sex that he’s forgotten to keep alert… turns out that all caution is carelessly thrown aside when he needs to get his rocks off. And that should not surprise him, really, because he’s always been so guarded that he’s truly enjoying this as if it were his first time.

Especially now that he has someone who _gets_ him to share it with.

Hopefully Hisoka will get him _off_ , too.

Meanwhile, Hisoka has been moving those long fingers of his. His Bungee Gum is connected to his fingertips, like it always is, forcing the thing at the other end to move in time with him. Right now, that thing is Illumi’s own fingers, buried as deep as they are inside of Hisoka’s mouth. The Magician swallows around them, and it seems a reflex act, rather than a deliberate motion. Had Illumi not stopped beforehand, the sleek feeling of Hisoka’s throat working around him would’ve forced a pause out of him.

Illumi refuses to groan out loud, barely manages to not emit any sounds when a very filthy Hisoka sends an equally provocative look to him.

That look alone is more than enough to spur Illumi into action. He quickly focuses his strength, because his thoughts are harder to grasp, and gathers his own Nen. Illumi is painfully aware that his prowess isn’t defence-oriented, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stand by idly.

He wants to dominate Hisoka. He also knows that entails a challenge. Honestly, he would already be demanding a refund if there _wasn’t_ a challenge.

Hisoka’s Nen is more suited for this, so it’s not easy to break his grasp – _his_ , not _its_ ; for Illumi, Bungee Gum is an extension of Hisoka himself. He’s never really seen that pink mess as an entity of its own. Maybe because Illumi’s own Nen abilities are so close to him, so personal, that he cannot make that distinction about himself. And, if he cannot distinguish it in himself, he doesn’t distinguish it in others.

That reasoning would explain why he never knows why Mother is always crying.

Hisoka chuckles when he feels Illumi’s resistance. A satisfied smile stretches his lips, reaching almost physically impossible width. Illumi frowns, pushes harder, dark Nen coalescing around him like waves crushing against the shore. For a moment, the struggle is limited to their Nen – and Hisoka seems to be winning. The fact that he’s still working his throat and tongue around Illumi’s fingers certainly helps his case, too.

Illumi can’t move his hand away from Hisoka while that damned pink Nen is the way, although he’d love to do that. He wants to slap Hisoka again, as hard as his strength would allow him, to send Hisoka so much pleasure that he can’t help but lose control of his Nen. But Illumi will never do that if it entails getting his fingers bitten clean off.

Suddenly, Hisoka moves his head backwards. Illumi’s fingers slowly slip out from in between his parted lips, taint his chin and part of his cheeks. Hisoka licks at his lower lip, as obscenely as he can. Illumi would’ve flushed, but he’s too stunned by the sight of Hisoka willingly submitting. _Again_. In fact, Hisoka’s amber eyes are half-closed, and his posture has relaxed, hands falling limp at his sides, fingers curled.

Illumi moves the hand on Hisoka’s face to hold his cheek for a second, gentle. He obtains no visible reaction from that. Illumi’s expression doesn’t change at all as he slaps the Magician, once, swift and hard.

Unsurprisingly, Hisoka moans like he’s a beast in heat.

Illumi almost falls to summon his Nen in time to deal with Hisoka’s new plan of attack – he should’ve known, the Magician is a trickster, after all. Of-fucking- _course_ that he’d lose a battle to win a war. He’s done it before, in real fights. There was no reason to think he would be any different in bed.

Hisoka manages to get a gasp out of Illumi when he uses his already-connected Bungee Gum to force Illumi to move. Illumi can’t quite stop himself from moaning while he is shoved around, handled as though all his strength and will amounts to nothing. Illumi blushes light pink, the colour much more diluted than in Hisoka’s Bungee Gum.

Illumi has always been clearly aware that Hisoka is physically stronger than him, but to be reminded like this, well… it’s such a turn on, if a bit jarring. Then again, Illumi cannot say that he doesn’t absolutely adore how easily Hisoka can pick him up and throw him around, with or without his Nen aiding him.

“You’ve gone quiet. Again.” Hisoka jabs, Illumi already collected inside his arms.

Illumi muses an answer inside his head and refuses to move, but only because he would end up ass-first onto the floor if he does move. Or so he tells himself. He can’t help but marvel at how Hisoka has managed to not tug on his long hair, though. The Magician, contrary to popular belief, _can_ be careful sometimes. Granted, these displays are rare, but Illumi has learnt not to underestimate what they mean. Especially because Hisoka, as rough as he likes things to be in bed, has demonstrated time and again that he also likes to be careful sometimes.

“I’m not quiet. I’m thinking.” Illumi mutters, feeling like he’s stating the obvious.

“ _Oooohhh~_ ” Hisoka purrs, low and dark. He doesn’t comment on the darkening hue covering Illumi’s cheeks, although he sees it clear as day. Illumi considers it a small favour. Hisoka purrs again, “And what are you thinking about~?”

A new red heart emoji appears in Illumi’s mind. The image tailors his answer, making it go from mildly teasing to full-on cutting.

“How badly I want to hit you again.” Hisoka trembles, and Illumi feels it. “But I won’t do it, if you don’t put me down now.”

“Do you want to present your respects to the floor?” Hisoka half-laughs. Illumi’s frown deepens.

“I would catch myself before that.” He retorts.

Illumi also prepares himself for being dropped, because he knows Hisoka well enough to wager that he would let him go just to test Illumi’s words. The hand supporting his thighs shifts a little. Illumi gathers his bearings, resolves that he will take Hisoka down with him.

Then, he is dropped. Just not on the floor.

“Ah!” Illumi gasps again. His back hits the softest mattress he remembers Hisoka ever having. Then, he remembers that this room isn’t Hisoka’s, but someone else’s – that explains why the décor isn’t as lavish as Hisoka likes, and why the mattress is this high-quality.

Illumi quickly scrambles about, not wanting to have a dominant Hisoka on top of him. The redhead leans one knee on the bed, muscles coiled tight enough to mark every single one of his abs. Illumi stares, but he also speaks:

“What was that about?”

“I enjoy the fight.” Hisoka shrugs, all poised strength. Illumi sits up, and he still is shorter. He doesn’t like that. “Don’t you, too?”

“Why do you ask when you already know the answer?” Illumi retorts. This whole ‘answering a question with a question’ business seems to be his new fad.

“Because I enjoy the faces you make.” Hisoka leans in just enough to be at face level with Illumi. He looks like he wants a kiss.

Illumi doesn’t allow him the privilege of being kissed. He just slaps Hisoka away from him, unperturbed when the Magician moans loudly. Hisoka’s head is hanging to one side from the sheer force behind Illumi’s hit, and he uses this newfound position to mouth at Illumi’s neck. He bites more than kisses, although Illumi certainly isn’t complaining.

Illumi’s left hand buries itself in short, red locks. He holds Hisoka close, too close for him to breathe normally, and Hisoka moans. The sound travels like a vibrating wave throughout Illumi, and then collects at his crotch. Hisoka’s mouth reaches the shirt’s high collar, and he whines.

“We should take this off of you.” He says. His volume is low, muffled by Illumi’s skin. Illumi smiles. “No fair if I’m the only one undressed.”

“I thought you like it when I’m domming you dressed.” Illumi retorts.

Hisoka trembles, moans, and Illumi forces him away by his hair. When their gazes meet, Hisoka’s is clouded with lust; their amber so dark it looks almost glazed-over with darkness. Illumi shivers, knows his own pupils are blown out of proportion – his eyes are so black that nobody would be able to tell, though.

Hisoka doesn’t care about Illumi’s hold on him when he presses onwards for the kiss he so craves. Illumi relents this time, but only because he, too, wants to be kissed.

It’s all tongue and teeth, just like they love it. Hisoka uses his wider experience to pry Illumi’s lips open, slides his tongue in before he knows if Illumi will bite him away. In any other circumstance, Illumi would accept it, would touch Hisoka’s tongue with his own, but now…

Now it’s a question of dominance. Both know that it won’t be as simple as, “the one who wins this kiss dominates the other during sex”, but that doesn’t mean they don’t try to outdo one another. Besides, it’s a lot of fun.

Those thoughts, and other similar ones, swirl inside Illumi’s mind – but they form in images and feelings, because he’s too far gone to care for words. Indulging his own sadism, he bites down on Hisoka’s tongue, more as a warning than to cause real damage.

Hisoka purrs at the teeth holding his tongue in place. He wriggles the tip just to see if it will get him anywhere. Illumi swallows another low purr from him when the tip of Illumi’s tongue caresses Hisoka’s.

It only lasts a moment. Then, Illumi is retreating to breathe. Hisoka leans in almost immediately after, too eager. Illumi has to raise a hand and press his fingertips against Hisoka’s lips to stop him from kissing him before he’s been able to breathe properly. The trick has the opposite result – Illumi feels like his weapon has misfired, catching not the prey but the shooter. Hisoka just opens his mouth again, invites Illumi in.

Illumi doesn’t fall twice for the same trick. He’s quick to slip his fingers out, slaps Hisoka again – as a punishment, despite how Hisoka takes it as a reward.

“Shameless bastard.” Illumi chastises Hisoka. The dark-haired makes a clear point out of keeping his tone neutral, knowing that not being able to read him will rile Hisoka up.

And a desperate Hisoka is always fun.

“You sound like you don’t enjoy me.” Hisoka almost pouts, but not quite. He _is_ pursing his lips, though; and the image makes Illumi think of a certain place Hisoka can wrap his lips around.

The thought is so painfully brutal that it almost makes Illumi heave into Hisoka’s arms.

Hisoka notices, of course he does, and a certain smile appears on his face. It’s self-satisfied, like he knows exactly how much he’s affecting Illumi. The Magician moves one hand to grasp the front of Illumi’s top, right at the centre of the chest. For a tense moment, Illumi feels like Hisoka is going to rip his clothes off him. Right now, he doesn’t really care about torn fabric; but he knows himself well enough to know that he’d regret it as soon as horniness has passed – his wardrove isn’t as extensive as Hisoka’s, after all.

Illumi covers Hisoka’s hand with one of his own. The Magician gives him a sly grin, moves his fingers. A golden button comes undone under their joined hands. Illumi raises his eyebrows in surprise; he hadn’t been expecting this. Turns out that Hisoka truly is full of surprises, after all.

Hisoka leans in to steal a kiss, distracting Illumi so much that, when he comes to his good senses again, his shirt is completely undone. The pale expanse of exposed skin, unmarked by the cloth’s lapels, seems to entice Hisoka. He bows his head down, until he can mouth at Illumi’s skin, right below his marked collarbone.

In any other person, such a gesture would’ve come off as respectful; worshipful, even. But this is _Hisoka_ doing it, so the kisses carry much different connotations into Illumi’s mind.

For example, it makes him think of how easily Hisoka could bite his collarbone, maybe even crush it between his jaws. Illumi shivers – from pleasure or pain, he doesn’t even know – Hisoka chuckles. He sounds amused, entertained by Illumi’s reaction. Illumi frowns; he doesn’t really want to give Hisoka the satisfaction of knowing that he’s the one causing these reactions out of Illumi.

One of Illumi’s slender hands tightens over Hisoka’s hair. The redhead purrs, not unlike a pleased cat, lets his tongue caress the thin layer of skin on the bone’s underside. Illumi shivers again and bites his lip not to moan – this might be the most reaction Hisoka has ever gotten out of Illumi. It’s almost impossible to believe it’s come only from such innocent gestures…

Well, “innocent” by Hisoka’s standards. Because, if they acknowledge society’s decency, this is downright filthy. Not that Illumi nor Hisoka himself would ever protest, though; they both know they love this kind of depravity in their sex.

Illumi tugs, _hard_ , on Hisoka’s hair. Hisoka makes a sound that is more moan than protest, but follows Illumi’s orders. If he’s going to be destroyed, controlled, brutalised, he wants to have fun. And resisting Illumi is always fun – pushing him to the limit, only to know Illumi will either move the limit with him ( _because of him_ ), or send Hisoka flying to the next continent.

It’s exhilarating. Hisoka can’t help but moan loudly at the thoughts racing inside his mind. He can feel Illumi’s questioning eyes on him, though he doesn’t acknowledge them. He knows it will rile Illumi up.

And he isn’t mistaken, despite what Illumi would want him to believe. Illumi’s hand moves from Hisoka’s short hair to the back of his neck, unconsciously using that assassination technique that his brother Killua is so fond of. Unnaturally long nails dig into Hisoka’s flesh, drawing blood. It drips down, around Hisoka’s neck, red and thick – Illumi curves his spine just so it will fall on him.

Hisoka, half-pinned as he is, can’t gaze far down enough to see where his blood is landing. It frustrates him, so he tries to move. His attempt is forceful, desperate like his wildest fight-moves are. Illumi sees it coming – more exactly, _feels_ it coming from how Hisoka’s back tenses a millisecond before he lunges forward.

Illumi is strong, but not strong enough to withstand Hisoka’s full weight. That means that he falls down onto the bed, back first, leaving him splayed. His hand leaves Hisoka’s neck, thin trails of red splashing the air around them, tainting Illumi’s fingers when he rests them on the mattress by his head. With his hair fanned around him like this, shirt undone, tight trousers as tented as can be, Illumi looks like one of Hisoka’s favourite fantasies.

“You don’t know how enticing you are~” Hisoka sing-sangs. His voice is thick, like honey, deceptively sweet.

Illumi stays silent. He knows better than to fall into that trap, even if he is curious about what else Hisoka has to say.

“Oh? Not even a frown?” Hisoka taunts him. He’s towering over Illumi, tall and broad and powerful, muscles unconsciously flexing from the sick pleasure he’s feeling. Illumi can’t see it, but he knows there’s blood dripping down Hisoka’s back.

Damn it, he wants to see it. He wants to touch it. He wants to taste it.

Illumi’s fingers twitch.

“Aaaah, I see how it is~” Hisoka sing-sangs again. Illumi is growing tired of that tone; he’d much rather Hisoka’s voice was broken from pleasure. That, or to hear Hisoka muttering endless moans. Now _that_ would be enticing… “You’re playing hard to get now, dear Illumi?”

“I’m not playing. I _am_ hard to get.” Illumi retorts before he can stop himself.

Hisoka’s grin widens, not unlike the Cheshire Cat’s in childhood tales. Illumi isn’t proud of how he’s made that connection, but at least he knows it’s only because little Alluka loves that movie, and Illumi has played babysitter more times than he can count.

A part of him feels like he’s playing Hisoka’s babysitter right now. Only, this time the games selected to entertain the kid are much different, much more pleasurable.

“Oh, you’re hard alright.” Hisoka taunts him again. If Illumi didn’t know him as well as he does, he would’ve been jaded at how easily this filth falls from Hisoka’s lips. “And pretty, too…”

An imagined red heart crosses Illumi’s mind, and – fuck. Illumi should _really_ do something about Hisoka’s mouth.

Something like reaching up to grab Hisoka. The Magician makes a sound at the contact, although Illumi doesn’t have enough time to decipher if it’s in protest or in pleasure. Those enhanced, long nails dig into Hisoka’s flesh again, tearing him apart until there are new rivers of red dripping down.

Hisoka moans as he’s forced to come down on top of Illumi. There’s a certain fire growing inside of him, burning as bright and uncontrollable as Illumi’s passion is right now. Hisoka is painfully aware of how he’s just now awakened a beast – a beast with a desire to kill. And yet Hisoka doesn’t want to stop it, because he knows he’d enjoy every bit of it, even if it means extinguishing his own flame forever.

Illumi is damn well worth it. Illumi is worth everything.

“ _Shut, up_.” Illumi growls. That authoritative tone is back, making his every word heavy and punctuated as if he’s pausing after every syllable. Hisoka trembles, moans, but Illumi swallows that moan – and the ones after it.

This kiss is more teeth and tongue than lips. Illumi bites down on Hisoka’s lips as much as the redhead allows him to; and when Hisoka’s tongue quickly enters and exits Illumi’s mouth, Illumi chases it with his own. The result is extremely messy, and there’s drool almost everywhere, but they don’t mind. It brings them pleasure, so why should they care about anything else?

“Illumi…” Hisoka moans when they come apart. Illumi moves to Hisoka’s neck, chasing with his tongue the red provoked by his nails. Hisoka moans when Illumi licks at his skin. “ _Illumi_ ~”

“Yes?” Illumi asks, making sure that the sound reverberates throughout Hisoka. The redhead throws his head back, moaning. One of Illumi’s hands stealthily moves down to Hisoka’s cock, squeezing hard. Hisoka moans again.

“You’re going to kill me…” Hisoka half protest, half purrs. It fuels the fire inside Illumi’s loins – it also fuels the fire inside his heart, but that’s a subject Illumi does _not_ want to touch.

“Isn’t that the plan?” Illumi asks. He’s keeping his voice even by not breathing, although Hisoka can feel how his stomach quivers, betraying his pleasure. “To use you to get myself off, and then to kill you?”

“You’re so cruel…” Hisoka whines. His hips snap forward, into Illumi’s hand.

“You love it.” Illumi accuses him, relentless. He’s aware of how he’s speaking more than usual; and he’s also being much filthier than usual. Yet he doesn’t care much. “You sick whore…”

“I am.” Hisoka prompts him. He’s being more cooperative than Illumi had initially expected, both in words and actions. “What are you going to do about it?”

A red diamond appears in Illumi’s mind, accentuating Hisoka’s question. Fucking hell, Illumi really _has_ been texting Hisoka too much.

“I could gag you.” Illumi takes Hisoka by the hair again, forcing him down until his head is level with Illumi’s cock. Hisoka lets him, although he’s strong enough to get away if he really wanted to. “I could force this cock down your throat until you can’t even moan anymore.”

Hisoka moans. Illumi frowns, although he already expected such a reaction.

“I wouldn’t let you breathe. I’d just make you gag until you’re clawing at me to let you go.”

As if on cue, Hisoka’s hands grab fistfuls of both sides of Illumi’s hips. The fabric is so tight that it doesn’t really let him grab much, but Hisoka is insistent. Illumi’s cock is tented, standing firmly at attention, and Hisoka swears he can see a damp patch starting to form. He also knows that Illumi would deny it, though; his beloved assassin is shy.

“I’d hold you right to my hips, until you stop fighting. You’d go limp just as I’d start to come, and I’d force you to swallow it all. If you spill a drop, I’ll punish you.”

Hisoka is so turned on by the shared fantasy, that he almost misses how Illumi has slipped from conditional to future tense. His brain needs a hot second to catch it; but when he does, he grins, wide, showing sharp teeth. Hisoka moves closer to Illumi’s cock, totally unprompted, nuzzles his cheek against it. Illumi draws a sharp breath – he doesn’t make a sound, but it’s obvious from how his abdominals quiver. Being this close, Hisoka can feel more than see every millisecond of it.

“How will you punish me, Illumi? Once I’m pliant and choked and full of your come, how will you punish me even more?”

“I’ll grab your cock at the base. I won’t let you come. I’ll just dislodge your arms, so you can’t move, and pin your knees and ankles to the floor with my needles. You’ll be unable to move. Your cock will stay hard and leaking, but. _You_. _Won’t_. _Come_.”

Hisoka moans low, eyes closing almost completely on their own, feeling each of Illumi’s last syllables reverberate all through him. This forceful fantasy is making him ride closer and closer to the edge, although he hasn’t touched himself yet. The use of future tense, instead of conditional, is also aiding his pleasure a lot. He knows himself well enough to know that, if he was to be overwhelmed like Illumi is describing, he would spill white without having to be touched once.

“I’ll grab you by the base, so you can’t come no matter how much you want to. Maybe I’ll even put a ring on you.”

“Make it a needly ring. Otherwise I’ll just come.” Hisoka advices, bending his language a bit. Illumi frowns; he’s understood Hisoka perfectly, but he doesn’t appreciate not using the proper words.

He’s too much like Mother, in this regard at least. She’d cry at the sole insinuation of Illumi, her eldest son, being kissed by a “nomadic gypsy” like Hisoka. Illumi’s whole being has always revolted against those words, though – Hisoka, and the band he travelled with when he was a kid, don’t deserve to be insulted like that.

“A ‘needly’ ring?” Illumi taunts, clearing his mind of all thoughts. He’s frowning again, lips pursed tightly as soon as he’s done speaking.

“Yes, a ring with needles along the inside.” Hisoka elaborates, although it wasn’t necessary for him to do so. He seems oblivious to how much Illumi dislikes that he hasn’t used the proper word. “You know. You could even use your Nen for that.”

“That would be inappropriate.” Illumi retorts right back. “And tiring to maintain.”

“So is your stamina not that great?” Hisoka jabs, mirth dancing in his amber eyes. He nuzzles the side of Illumi’s cock again, trying to either keep Illumi silent, or to force a moan out of him.

As fortune would have it, Illumi moans. His cock has been too unattended for too long, and he’s dying to rain white over Hisoka’s face. Hisoka’s tongue draws an upward line along Illumi’s length, playful. Illumi moans again, pulls on his hair to make him stop.

“You don’t deserve my Nen.” Illumi growls. His hair is starting to float around him once more, signalling his growing bloodlust. “You want to do something useful for once? Undress me. Don’t you dare tear my clothes.”

Hisoka obeys, but only because hearing that low growl charging Illumi’s words is almost more than he can stand. He’s dancing right on the desired edge, as his wriggling hips testify, and yet he knows too well that Illumi will force him away at the first chance he gets. It’s not even a matter of Illumi being egotistical enough to want to come first, or that he wants to put Hisoka through their shared fantasy. Illumi is simply too riled up to consider Hisoka’s pleasure above his own.

Hisoka doesn’t deem it necessary to say out loud, but he loves it. It makes him feel degraded, like he’s just a sex-toy for Illumi to use and then reject until he needs sex again. Hisoka is kinky enough – or fucked-up enough, depending on the point of view – to get off on that.

Hisoka skilfully undoes the single button on Illumi’s trousers and tugs the zipper as far downwards as it can go. Then, he slips his fingers around Illumi’s well-formed thighs, cupping his ass for a moment. At the same time, he presses opened lips to Illumi’s tip, making the strong hips under him start. Hisoka chuckles, knowing that the feel of it will drive Illumi crazy – crazier than by the sound itself.

Once again, he knows Illumi too well. Or maybe it’s just that he can read Illumi like an open book, used as he is to read all his opponents during a fight to maximize the effects of his own tricky Nen. At any rate, it makes Illumi’s hips jerk upwards, growling.

Hisoka gives out a tiny chuckle once more, giggly like only Hisoka could be. But he also tugs Illumi’s trousers down, to avoid being chastised again. No matter how much he actually enjoys the punishments Illumi cooks up, the desire to see Illumi’s cock wins.

And what a cock it is, really, flushed angry and red, a couple shades darker than Illumi’s pale skin, yet equally enticing. It’s not as long as Hisoka’s, perhaps reflecting how Hisoka is slightly taller than Illumi, but it’s thicker. The head is especially reddened, flared wider than the shaft. There are no visible veins, not even on the underside; Illumi is flawless even down here. Hisoka licks his lips. He knows that, if he were to take Illumi raw, this thickness would make him groan in mixed pain.

He fucking wants to feel Illumi taking him. He wants to be fucked hard, and fast, and rough, and raw, by Illumi. Because Illumi is part of the selected few who can fuck Hisoka, instead of being fucked by Hisoka.

Then again, maybe Illumi is the chosen one, one in singular, who can fuck Hisoka.

“You’re gorgeous…” Hisoka moans. He’s immediately licking Illumi, tracing the head’s underside from side to side. Illumi shivers, moans, a red heart in his mind.

But this time it’s not only to accentuate Hisoka’s words.

“Thank you…” Illumi manages to say. Hisoka keeps tugging his trousers down, so Illumi has to raise his knees to untangle the cloth. It’s only now that he realises Hisoka has taken his underwear down too, not wasting any time. His initiative alone deserves a reward, Illumi decides; especially when Illumi himself enjoys virtually all benefits. “ _Eat me_.”

Hisoka moans loud, untamed, and his mouth instantly wraps around Illumi’s cock. He’s only taking him down to the middle, half the shaft still outside. Hisoka is more than able to deep-throat Illumi right from the start, so this is a conscious choice he’s making. It makes Illumi bite back a moan.

Illumi also rests both his elbows on the mattress, fingers curled. He doesn’t have enough leverage to grab fistfuls of the bedcovers, though; he has to content with throwing his head back until his hair pools over the bed. Illumi raises his thighs, trapping Hisoka by the shoulders. Hisoka welcomes him with a vibrated sound – it travels far and fast through Illumi, from the cock up to his head. Illumi moans again.

Hisoka opens his throat and moves down, tantalizingly slow. He knows this drives Illumi mad, and he craves the roughness, the violence, that comes when Illumi is denied of something he wants. The first time it happened, they hadn’t even been lovers yet, and Hisoka had started to desire Illumi in more ways than one. The memory would’ve made Hisoka smile, but his mouth is a bit too full for that.

Instead, he goes down all the way, trying to be as tight around Illumi as he can without really choking on him. Not that it would be easy for Hisoka to really choke – he just doesn’t want to risk it. Despite their earlier fantasy, Hisoka would much rather choke on come than on Illumi’s slick cock; it makes him feel powerful, to know he can reduce this assassin to a purring, coming mess underneath him.

Not to mention that Illumi always clamps his thighs closed, hard, around Hisoka, whenever he comes. And that’s without mentioning how Illumi’s hands tug, so violent, so insistent, on Hisoka’s hair, to tug him both closer and away at the same time…

Hisoka moans at the thoughts, at the memories, swirls his tongue around Illumi’s base. Those slender hands grab some of his locks, holding him in place. Hisoka feels precum leaking eagerly, the acute taste exploding directly onto the back of his tongue, so he swallows. Illumi’s back instantly arches up from the bed, and then he’s moaning, wild, loud, thighs spasming against Hisoka’s shoulders.

 _Give me more~_ , the Magician thinks. He closes his jaw as much as he can, giving Illumi a ghost of teeth around his cock without biting down in the slightest. It accentuates how tight Hisoka is around Illumi, how easily he could seriously hurt Illumi if he wanted to. It’s a silent threat, almost – _don’t push me too far, or else_ – and yet Illumi just moans and arches his back and tugs on Hisoka to keep him locked against his hips.

When Illumi starts to come, Hisoka makes a focused sound. Its vibrations make Illumi moan louder, come harder, and Hisoka swallows every single drop. He’s greedy, because the taste is the best he’s ever had from a man (he won’t ever compare Illumi to a woman), and Illumi fits too well inside his mouth.

Illumi slowly falls back down onto the bed, breathless, face as flushed as his cock. He can’t remember coming like this a long time, and yet he isn’t fully satisfied. He doesn’t need to move to know Hisoka is still wrapped around him, obedient. Illumi caresses his hair in silent acknowledgement of his efforts – it feels like twisted praise, especially when Illumi waves his hips just to know what it feels like.

Illumi _moans._ The loudest he’s moaned thus far.

Turns out the feeling is _fucking overwhelming_. He’s too sensitive from coming just now; assassin’s stamina or not, he still needs a sliver of a refractory period. Hisoka’s mouth is warm around him, and his cock fits perfectly where it rests along Hisoka’s long tongue. Illumi knows that, in a few moments, he’s going to harden again.

Hisoka’s fingers dig into Illumi’s ass, curling in between his cheeks. Illumi is too spent to chastise him right now, and Hisoka knows it, that bastard, so he uses it to his own advantage.

He feels Illumi up, enjoying how his hips tremble every time Hisoka’s fingertips brush against his puckered hole. Illumi moans when Hisoka’s fingers grow more insistent, and yet doesn’t protest. Hisoka assumes that Illumi’s still too spent to punish him; so he promptly makes the most out of whatever time he has. Illumi’s refractory period changes so much that Hisoka is long past the point of trying to guess when exactly Illumi is going to jump at him again. Nowadays, he’s just content with knowing that he can do more or less whatever he wants to Illumi while he's recovering from an orgasm.

Illumi trembles. He knows their current posture isn’t the best if Hisoka wants to explore him like this, but he’s still reluctant to move. He’s comfortable where he is, laying face-up with an overly-eager Hisoka between his thighs. He doesn’t really want to move.

Hisoka pinches his ass, and Illumi jumps.

“The fuck was that for?!” Illumi demands, so uncharacteristically crude – Mother would have his mouth rinsed with soap if she knew. His hair is flaring wildly around him, signalling just how much he wants to _destroy_ Hisoka right now.

“You looked too comfy~” Hisoka answers, voice rough and low, now that he’s been freed from the weight of Illumi’s cock.

Hisoka doesn’t want to admit that he kind of misses that wet feeling around him.

Illumi’s expression darkens in time with his flaring Nen. He slaps Hisoka across the face, much harder than he’s done until now. The sound resounds sharp in the room, echoed by Hisoka’s moan. Illumi doesn’t skip a beat before backhanding him again, this time on the opposite cheek. Hisoka echoes the slap with another moan.

“You’re sick to the core.” Illumi states. He isn’t growling, but he might as well be from how fast the sound travels to Hisoka’s crotch. “You’re nothing more than a sick bastard who gets off on being hit.”

“Oh, my dear Illumi, that’s not the only thing that will get me off…” Hisoka sing-sangs. The effect is somewhat lost because his voice is quite roughened from having deep-throated Illumi for so long.

“Fucked-up clown.” Illumi rasps.

Truth be told, that pinch has stung but not truly hurt – he just enjoys teasing Hisoka like this, making him think that Illumi is far more pissed off than he really is. It helps that Illumi has such control over his own Nen that he can summon an image similar to the one created by his bloodlust.

Hisoka merely grins at the accusation, though; doesn’t even try to guess whether Illumi’s bloodlust is real or faked. He knows himself well enough to know he can’t deny that; to do so would be hypocritical. Illumi is surprised when Hisoka doesn’t challenge the “clown” part, because both know that Hisoka prefers “Magician”.

Illumi moves one hand to hold Hisoka’s chin. He makes Hisoka look up, directly into Illumi’s half-obscured face. Hisoka’s amber eyes are half-closed, but his mouth is half-opened, letting Illumi see glimpses of his teeth. He looks completely submissive once more, like he’s letting Illumi call the shots no matter where that leads him to.

Illumi is considerate enough to let Hisoka have a way out, even if he doesn’t really say so. Saying it out loud would be an insult – a way of saying that Hisoka is so weak that Illumi needs to look out for him.

The thumb of Illumi’s other hand caresses Hisoka’s lips, much gentler than either of them wants to admit. Illumi is almost taken aback by how Hisoka isn’t wearing lipstick today – yeah, he should’ve realised that way sooner, but who can really blame him for being distracted when this sculpted creation of the Gods of Hell is in his bed?

Illumi slips his thumb inside Hisoka’s mouth, unsurprised when the Magician lets him. It seems like Hisoka likes to have something inside his mouth at all times, although that robs him of the pleasure of listening to his own voice – Illumi is almost one-hundred percent sure that Hisoka speaks more for his own benefit than to rile Illumi up.

At any rate, though, Hisoka looks (and sounds) like he’s enjoying this. Illumi feels his tongue curling around his finger; and that’s his silent cue to take his hand away from his mouth. Hisoka whines, although Illumi is still holding him by the chin.

“You want to do something else for me?” Illumi asks, more to test the waters than because he wants to know the truthful answer. He knows Hisoka is crafty enough to say what Illumi wants to hear instead of the naked truth.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m enjoying this~” Hisoka has the audacity to _wink_ at Illumi, making him scrunch up his nose. This gesture is a new one, one that Hisoka hasn’t already seen in Illumi’s face. It makes his amber eyes light up.

“Knock it off.”

“Or else~?” an imaginary red heart is used as the interrogation mark.

“Or I’m going to needle you half to death and leave you to simmer in a puddle of your own come.”

The mental image is brutal, its violence punctuated by golden pins appearing from thin air to hold Illumi’s hair away from his face. Hisoka chokes on a moan, watching how the pins pulls that long darkness into a high ponytail. But pins aren’t the most reliable tie, as evidenced by how a couple of locks fall loose, framing Illumi’s almost-inexpressive face. Illumi does nothing to stop them, preferring instead to flare his Aura up a bit.

Hisoka moans again.

“But you’ll love that, won’t you?” Illumi asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Illumi’s use of future tense instead of conditional doesn’t go unmissed. Hisoka can physically feel his own cock harden.

“You know me well…” Hisoka purrs, smirks his usual wide grin, all the intensity inside his eyes focused on the glimpses of gold he can see from in between Illumi’s black hair. The only motion Hisoka makes is opening his arms a bit, muscles coiled as tightly as they can be, to display all the vulnerable points to Illumi. “I’ll just lay there, sprawled and bleeding, _for you_ ~”

This time, it’s Illumi who moans.

“I’ll just fight against your pins, but that will only make me bleed more.” Hisoka continues talking, acting like he hasn’t heard Illumi – yet both know that’s a lie; Hisoka’s cock has jumped up and down at the sound. “I wonder, can your pins tear my arms apart?”

“Do you really want to find out?”

Illumi’s tone is completely neutral, and he isn’t using any special inflections, but it still makes Hisoka moan. Illumi is reminded, not for the first time, that Hisoka’s sadism extends far beyond a mere fight. That tendency towards violence seems to dictate every single thing he does – as exemplified by how he’s already reaching out to grab at Illumi’s hair.

Unsurprisingly, Hisoka ends up stung.

“You should really know better.” Illumi frowns, chastises him. Hisoka’s hand tries to retreat from the pointed crown of pins, but Illumi is faster. “If you want to suffer that much, you should’ve told me sooner.”

“Would that have made you punish me?” Hisoka asks.

He’s just finished speaking when Illumi brings Hisoka’s hand between his own two legs. The Magician’s smirk disappears for a refreshing moment, trying to guess what sick game Illumi is playing at. Illumi forces Hisoka to curl those long fingers until the nails are scratching the inner sides of his thighs, lightly yet insistently.

Hisoka is delighted. He’d thought that Illumi meant to punish him good, long, and hard – _innuendos galore inside his mind_ – but this is not a punishment. This is a reward. One he knows he has not earned.

Hisoka frowns. It’s not in Illumi’s nature to be this kind without a reason (at least, not to someone outside the Zoldycks), so there _must_ be a reason. But he can’t find it, he’s uselessly racking his brain while Illumi guides his hand all over Illumi’s own cock, and balls, and thighs.

Hisoka lets out the crossbreed of a moan and a whine.

“What do you want?” Illumi asks, tone still neutral as ever. He can sense Hisoka’s growing desperation, can feel how the Magician is starting to lose control over his own muscles. Those long fingers are now spasming where they lay opened against Illumi’s skin, contracting like Hisoka wants to grab at Illumi. Alas, Illumi doesn’t let him. “Is this not a punishment for you?”

“Isn’t it hell for you too?” Hisoka manages to ask, voice raspy, lacking flirtations.

“No. I’ve already come.”

That answer knocks the wind out of Hisoka.

It also makes precum leak from Hisoka’s cock.

“Sadistic bastard…” Hisoka mutters. He should’ve known that the always poised and composed Illumi would have more control over his animalistic urges. Then again, most people have better control over their instincts than Hisoka. “You’re _enjoying_ this.”

“Is that an accusation or a statement?”

Hisoka growls, low and menacing, from the back of his throat. Illumi knows that the sound should be interpreted as a threat, a sign that Hisoka is about to pounce, and yet he doesn’t move. He doesn’t do anything in preparation for the incoming attack. He just waits, silent, unmoving.

Hisoka’s Aura is so concentrated that it’s downright oppressing to be in its midst, a rich deep purple drowning all light around him. Illumi’s hair stands on end, the ingrained assassin’s instincts flaring up even though he tries to supress them, a cold shiver running down his back – Hisoka’s anger is so visceral that Illumi can feel that shiver travelling right down to his legs.

“ ** _Illumi_**.” Another shiver. “ ** _Don’t test my patience._** ” And another. “ ** _You know you cannot win._** ”

Illumi lets himself fall backwards, until his back reaches the mattress. He wobbles up and down for a second, the edges of his own pins resting at all angles against his head. Illumi conjures just enough Nen to turn them dull, to avoid puncturing himself with his own weapons. He makes sure to keep his power-levels contained, though; Hisoka is riled up enough already. Illumi traces that thought, and then opens his thighs on both sides of Hisoka’s body. The posture makes him raise his legs a bit, exposing himself completely.

For a moment, Illumi muses whether he should say “ _take me_ ” or “ _do your worst_ ”. He’s aware of how Hisoka doing his worst would leave either of them lifeless – _literally_ – so he bites his tongue. Even when he’s quite sure that’s what Hisoka wants to hear. Or something along those lines.

How did the saying go…? Sticks and stones may break my bones, yet they excite me? That doesn’t sound right to Illumi. But the point is still the same: Hisoka is a kinky bastard.

“ ** _Are you sure, my dear Illumi?_** ” Hisoka asks. His voice has reached a darkness that Illumi has only heard a couple times, most infamously during the Hunter Exam. Now, though, the implications are completely different. “ ** _Are you sure you want to give me this?_** ”

“Yes.” Illumi keeps his own tone as inexpressive as it would be when discussing his next assassination target. But he can’t help the deep purple spirals dancing inside his eyes – a manifestation of his Nen, not an attempt at manipulating Hisoka. Illumi knows Hisoka would resist any and all attempts at manipulating him. “Just take me. You haven’t come yet, you’re desperate, you need to come. So come.”

Hisoka falls on top of Illumi, fitting between his legs easily, as easily as if that has always been the place he belongs to. His mouth finds Illumi’s chest immediately, teeth closing greedily around one nipple in a tight circle. Illumi trembles, lets his hips shake up into Hisoka’s – it’s his way of saying that it’s alright if Hisoka gets bloody, because Illumi can take it.

Or so he hopes. He hasn’t really seen Hisoka _this_ far gone.

…maybe he really has teased Hisoka too much.

Oh well. It’s too late for that now. Hisoka moves away from that bitten nipple, but only to draw another red circle around the other. Illumi trembles again, his own cock still half-hard and unattended. Illumi doesn’t care much about his own pleasure, though; not now, when he’s already had the pleasure – _literally_ – of coming undone inside Hisoka.

Illumi doesn’t have many gentlemanly inclinations, but he sure as hell lets them afloat when he’s got someone he likes in his bed.

Or _on_ his bed. Like right now. Hisoka isn’t under the covers, so technically he’s _on_ the bed, and not _in_ the bed. Then again, only Illumi can be pedantic enough to care for that precision when he’s got fingertips prodding at his ass.

Hisoka wastes no time in sliding down Illumi’s body, mapping the tight lines of his abdominals with his tongue. Illumi fights against Hisoka’s hands prodding right at his hipbones, more because he’s slightly ticklish than because he really wants Hisoka to stop.

“ ** _Quiet~_** ” Hisoka orders. His sing-sang tone has made it seem a mere advice, but it’s still so obvious that it’s an order. His hands’ pressure over Illumi’s body has tripled, heavy like a vice grip keeping Illumi right where Hisoka wants him to be.

Illumi stops fighting, already knowing that nothing good will come out of it. Still, he can’t help the trembling. Hisoka raises his head to look at him, amber eyes glazed over by bloodlust, Aura exploding around him like a dark cape.

“I’m ticklish.” Illumi confesses, ashamed but not wanting to be misunderstood. In these circumstances, any slight error would be fatal. Illumi’s head is turned away from Hisoka while he speaks, because he doesn’t like admitting it – Hells know that his siblings have used it against him enough times already. “That’s all.”

“ ** _Cute_** ~” Hisoka coos. Illumi frowns; he’s always thought of his own ticklishness as a weakness, as something he needed to overcome to be a better assassin. Yet he hasn’t been able to find a “cure” for it.

“Thank you?” Illumi had intended it to be a statement, but a new tickle forces him to add the interrogation at the end. He’s lucky he hasn’t rolled that last U.

Hisoka giggles – his bloodlust either is not that great as his Nen makes it seem or has diminished a lot. Illumi is too used to see how easily Hisoka falls into a state of almost complete Zombie-like qualities, bloodlust being his only drive. When he’s that disturbed, he seeks only strong opponents to tear apart in creative, yet gory, ways. Illumi has never seen a blood-lusted Hisoka searching for someone to fuck.

It’s almost flattering that Illumi is the first exception.

Hisoka opens his mouth, letting some saliva fall directly onto Illumi’s cock. Illumi shivers, letting his head fall onto the mattress – now he cannot see what Hisoka is doing to him, but he can still feel it. He feels how Hisoka’s tongue circles the area where his saliva had fallen, insistent, like he wants to bring Illumi to full mast.

A needle falls loose from Illumi’s hair when he turns his head to one side, unable to stop the moan spilling forth. Hisoka giggles against his cock, takes the pliant flesh in hand, nuzzles the underside, that wickedly long tongue still licking all along Illumi’s length. Illumi’s hands instantly fly between his legs, wanting to hold Hisoka to him – fuck not getting pleasure, Illumi wants more pressure on his cock.

Hisoka giggles. His Nen flares up.

Illumi gasps. His hands fall back heavy onto the bed.

“Bastard.” Illumi exhales, seeking Hisoka with his eyes. The Magician smiles, and Illumi can feel that damned smile against his balls.

“ ** _We didn’t agree on hard lines today_** ~” Hisoka reminds him.

As if Illumi needed a reminder. He flexes his wrists, testing his restraints. They’re surprisingly soft, and they give way more than Illumi had anticipated. It’s easy to move from the pink blob’s centre to the periphery, Illumi notices. He’s always so inexpressive that he wonders if his inner surprise and amazement are painted clear in his eyes.

But he can’t get either wrist out of the pink blob.

Illumi hears Hisoka giggle and turns to look at him with a marked frown. The sick Magician sits up, his leaking cock almost lined up with Illumi’s ass. It’s easier to look at him now, Illumi realises. Hisoka reaches by Illumi’s head, picking up the golden pin that had fallen from his hair. He twists and turns it in his hand, his fingers almost as long as the needle itself. Illumi follows the movement with darkened, spiralling eyes.

When Hisoka brings the pin closer to his face, Illumi’s Nen flares up.

“ ** _Ooooh_** ~” Hisoka moans. He rolls his hips fluidly, not stopping until the tip of his cock is resting heavily on Illumi’s balls. “ ** _Impatient, are we?_** ”

“Speak for yourself.” Illumi tries to control his breathing, because every intake of air makes his bitten nipples ache. “I’m not the one itching to fuck the other.”

“ ** _You’re just itching to be fucked._** ”

Illumi shivers on reflex, shades of red rising from his shaft to his head. Hisoka’s more than close enough to see it, and the vision takes a giggle out of him. The sound is low in both volume and tone, maybe a full octave below his usual sing-sang drawl. Illumi tightens his muscles upon seeing the wicked, perverted, grin on Hisoka’s face.

Illumi knows his own desire well enough to know he’s in no position to retort, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to bite back.

The Nen-infused needle on Hisoka’s hand suddenly leaves his grasp, faster than a normal bullet. Hisoka half-opens his lips as if in wonder, following the pin with his eyes. It ends up embedded deep into the bed’s header, where Illumi can barely reach it with his fingertips if he stretches enough. The needle’s gold colour is somewhat dulled because of the intense purple Nen surrounding it, Hisoka notices. The violet dances unstably around the pin for a moment, and then soft thuds catch Hisoka’s attention.

The needles at Illumi’s hair are coming undone, slowly, one by one. They fall onto the mattress, no Nen surrounding them. Illumi has his head cocked slightly to the side, as if he refuses to look directly into Hisoka’s eyes. There are deep spirals inside his irises, but they’re subdued somehow – like he’s calling off his Aura to make himself irrelevant in comparison to Hisoka’s flared-up Nen.

It makes Hisoka feel powerful, in control.

Illumi still doesn’t look at Hisoka when he feels himself starting to get breached. Hisoka isn’t being exactly gentle, though he could also be much rougher if he wanted to. Illumi is grateful for that small mercy, at least. It almost signifies that Hisoka regards him as important enough to not break him at the first opportunity he gets.

Illumi’s mind resists being called a “toy”, although he’s certainly used that term to describe Hisoka.

Hypocritical as it is, Illumi can’t help but feel like a glorified glory-hole for Hisoka to fuck into. The sensation is augmented when Hisoka presses himself as deep as he can go. The Magician moans, drawn out like the sensations he’s getting, rolls his hips until he bottoms out.

Contrary to what Illumi was expecting, he doesn’t start moving instantly. It’s so surprising that Illumi promptly turns his head to gaze at Hisoka – several locks have fallen onto his face when all the needles were removed from his hair, making the task a bit more complicated. Illumi doesn’t move a single finger, though; he can still sense the full extent of Hisoka’s Aura. Even if he could only feel the edges of it, it would still be easy to know Hisoka is right at the centre of that murderous intent.

Or should he say, “fuckerous” intent.

But that would be him inventing words again. He doesn’t want to invent words. This is just sex; there’s no need to pretend that the pleasure he’s feeling is greater than what any other partner could bring him. The only true novelty is that Hisoka is probably the only person that has seen Illumi sprawled open like this, ready, almost _begging_ , to be fucked.

Hisoka rolls his hips back and forth, once, testing the waters. Illumi feels pain – he hasn’t been properly stretched beforehand, so this is much more acute than a mere burn – but doesn’t say anything. He’s almost grateful that his hair is hiding more than half of his face, because this is probably one of the extremely few things that could make him blush.

Hisoka reaches out and sets black hair away, letting it fall onto the mattress.

Illumi’s only reaction is to purse his lips, frowning. There’s a lovely, light shade of pink tinting his cheeks, complimenting the deepest of purples inside his eyes. Hisoka smirks, too out of breath to properly giggle – Illumi is grateful for that, too; it means he doesn’t have to withstand any more dark teasing while Hisoka is buried inside him.

It almost compensates the effort to take him in raw.

But just _almost_.

A high, completely undignified moan is ripped out of Illumi when Hisoka moves out and back inside, hard and fast and forceful. Hisoka would smirk, but he’s too lost in his own pleasure to do anything aside from keening, loud and uncontained. Then, he repeats the motion, equally forceful but slightly slower. Illumi resists the urge to close his eyes under the incoming assault, resorting instead to staring into Hisoka’s body.

Those deliciously muscled arms are braced on Illumi’s hips, holding him in place, giving Hisoka all the leverage he needs to ram in and out at his preferred pace. Illumi half opens his lips, still refusing to moan – he also spreads his thighs further, because it gives him a better visual of Hisoka’s waist. That fact wouldn’t be as important if Hisoka wasn’t so fucking _ripped_ , abdominals contracting in time with his thrusts. It’s such a magnificent spectacle, one that would force any of Hisoka’s partners to feel only unabashed desire – the desire to touch him, or to trace those hard lines, or even to spill come or blood or cream or _whatever_ over him just to lick him clean.

Illumi is no stranger to depravity, but the mental image still makes him inch closer to the orgasm he can already feel building up. The tangible promise of a future, intense, release forces Illumi to clench tightly around Hisoka. In turn, Hisoka moans loud, circles around Illumi’s hip with one hand. Illumi squirms in protest when long nails are buried halfway into his ass-cheeks, unforgiving. Hisoka’s smirk grows.

“ ** _Why do you fight? Isn’t this what you wanted, Illumi? To be used by me?_** ”

Illumi shivers, bites his lips to contain half a moan – the other half still manages to escape him, ringing loud and clear throughout the room. Hisoka falters his rhythm; and Illumi should be proud of himself, because Hisoka is not the kind of man who stops his pace just because his partner is starting to get overwhelmed.

Illumi wants to move one hand to cover his mouth, wants to bite into his own fist to prevent more embarrassing sounds from coming out. But his wrists are still tied by pink Bungee Gum, so he has to move both his hands. Hisoka’s Nen dances over his skin, spilling down to his neck, uncontrolled. Illumi shots Hisoka a warning look, because this is such a vulnerable position to be in, one in which Hisoka has almost complete control over Illumi’s life.

With that Bungee Gum so close to Illumi’s neck, Hisoka could really choke him out for good while he’s fucking him. Illumi doesn’t actually know whether Hisoka has ever claimed a life like this, but it wouldn’t surprise him much if he had. After all, Hisoka is _absolutely_ the kind of guy who gets overly-excited during a fight, and then fucks his opponent right on the battlefield, finally bleeds them out to die while Hisoka himself is getting his own sick pleasure out of it.

The image painted in Illumi’s mind makes his Nen flare up once more. His hair extends over the mattress as much as it can while half-pinned underneath Illumi’s head and shoulders. It’s a dark halo, punctuating the growing spirals of violet inside his eyes, complimenting that annoyingly light pink at his cheeks.

And yet his presence is softer than Hisoka’s own – much softer than what Illumi truly wants to make it. After all, this is only a warning.

“ ** _I’m not going to kill you…_** ” Hisoka moans, drawn-out. His hips have resumed their in-and-out, so Illumi has to bite his lower lip again to not groan in twisted pleasure and pain. “ ** _That wouldn’t be very interesting_** ~”

Illumi knows better than to inquire about what would be “interesting” in these circumstances. Besides, he can taste blood – he’s bitten himself so hard that he’s spilt red.

Hisoka is quick to catch it, but he doesn’t bend down to taste it like Illumi was half-expecting him to do. Instead, his pink Nen bobbles not unlike a tensed bubble, a thin trail going up from Illumi’s wrists to his mouth. Illumi tries to close his mouth in time, knowing by pure instinct what Hisoka has in mind – and, fuck, that’s even deadlier than a chokehold of pink.

Illumi suddenly resolves he needs to work on his reflexes.

The Bungee Gum ebbs free, side-to-side, caressing his mouth. It feels unnatural, like a sensation that shouldn’t exist, or something with which his mind is deluding him. This Nen is almost like a miniaturized wave, quite rubbery in properties but not in feel – so Hisoka isn’t using Texture Surprise after all. It caresses Illumi’s lower lip for a moment more, and then starts to pry his mouth open.

Illumi knows perfectly well that he shouldn’t open up, because who knows what Hisoka has in mind, and although Illumi is certainly strong enough to take him on in a fight, this posture doesn’t really leave him many options. And, to top off this sick joke, Hisoka is virtually invulnerable to Illumi’s Manipulation Nen. Which drastically reduces Illumi’s possibilities of making it out alive if Hisoka decides to launch a full-on attack.

The Bungee Gum at his mouth suddenly feels cold – colder than ice, much colder than room temperature. Illumi is sure that Hisoka is doing it on purpose, the bastard. Then, its texture changes too, going from a mere blob to steel-like hardness in what feels like a split second. Illumi directs his annoyed gaze up to Hisoka, like another warning.

Hisoka smiles as innocently as he can muster, given that he’s balls deep in Illumi. In fact, his hips haven’t stopped moving for a single moment – although he’s allowed the rhythm to grow slower. That doesn’t mean he’s any less unforgiving, though; Illumi can still feel that same mixture of pain and pleasure spreading through his lower half.

The Bungee Gum, reinforced with Texture Surprise, is insistent enough to breach through Illumi’s resistance. However, it doesn’t go immediately for the back of his throat, like Illumi was dreading; it seems content with just prodding about his lips. It hasn’t even entered his mouth completely, and this new texture is stimulating enough to keep Illumi interested.

It feels like pure metal is against the tip of his tongue; but, since this is just Bungee Gum, it’s also pliant and soft. Illumi slowly slides his tongue along it, just to feel what it feels like, because this is not a chance he gets every day. It mostly speaks about how gone Hisoka is, about how he’s letting himself go due to the acute pleasure running throughout his system.

Illumi doesn’t have quite enough reach to bite the Bungee Gum like it’s chewing gum, so he has to content with closing his jaw a bit. The gesture is a clear hint to Hisoka – or it would be, was he in a right state of mind. As it is, though, the Magician is losing control of his own Aura, letting it spread thin and wide instead of tight and coiled. Illumi rolls his hips onto Hisoka’s, and it makes Hisoka moan high and loud, trembling all over.

Illumi uses his tongue to guide the Bungee Gum to the point at his lower lip where he has bitten himself earlier. Hisoka’s Nen is so unbelievably flexible that it melds itself perfectly to the tiny puncture, covering it.

Illumi _moans_ , loud and impossible to contain, when that treacherous Nen pushes itself slightly into the wound, making it sting a little. It’s not bleeding anymore, although Hisoka is prying into it like he wishes it was. For a split second, Illumi wonders if blood would stick to the Bungee Gum or merely go through it – yes, Illumi has seen Hisoka fight on uncountable occasions, but he’s never really seen blood and pink Nen combined. Hence his curiosity.

Hisoka presses his hips as close to Illumi’s as he physically can, both arms around Illumi’s figure. He keens, unabashedly loud and high-pitched, head thrown back, spine curved forward. He’s twitching violently where he’s buried, deep inside of Illumi – he’s coming, thick spurts painting his lover from the inside out. Illumi feels every last second of it, revels in the sensations, drives Hisoka even further over the edge by working his muscles as best as he can in such a forced posture. Hisoka moans more, in short-circuited gasps, because he can’t take in too much air right now.

When Hisoka falls on top of Illumi, the assassin can do little more than catch him. Hisoka is heavy like only a dead weight would be, too boneless to even attempt to catch the brunt of his own burden – not that he would’ve been able to do so without using his Nen, though; his hands are pinned under Illumi’s torso. Hisoka leans his head on the centre of Illumi’s chest, red hair reduced to a tussled, damp mess. His breathing is heavier now that he’s done coming, chest and abdomen heaving against Illumi’s. It’s almost like he’s trying to synchronize his own respiration with Illumi’s, yet not quite so – all words fail, and Illumi has no real way of describing it.

Illumi can feel the softness of Hisoka’s hair even through that blobbing, pink Nen still holding his wrists in place. Hisoka’s murderous Aura is completely gone, a tell-tale sign of how desperation has been taken away. Illumi slowly slides his arms over Hisoka’s hair, to his broad shoulders, and holds him in place.

Hisoka gives out a drawn-out sound, almost like a breathless moan. The gesture he’s being regaled with is so sweet, so gentle that it seems almost out of place, considering their previous, violent tendencies. Hisoka sighs, letting his hot breath catch on Illumi’s nipple, hardening it even further – who would’ve thought that Illumi, who often wears tight clothes, would enjoy that.

“Better now?” Illumi asks, tone soft but raspy.

“You sound strained…” if Hisoka had intended to give his voice the usual sing-sang intonation, he’s failed. Still, a playful red diamond appears in Illumi’s mind.

“My cock is trapped between your body and mine.” Illumi answers plainly. He doesn’t sound as neutral as he would’ve liked.

Hisoka gives out a small laugh, more playfully roguish than truly dangerous.

Illumi suddenly knows that he’s got something in mind, something that he’d love to see realised. Hisoka turns his head just slightly, presses his lips to Illumi’s skin. The kiss is open-mouthed, not too dry but not too wet either. His tongue gets a lick in, and Illumi shivers – shivers, because he’s immediately reminded of how talented that tongue was on Illumi’s cock.

“Would you let me free?” Hisoka asks. The implications aren’t lost on Illumi, but he still feels like nagging him. Besides, it’s fun to tease Hisoka like this – especially when there are no actual murder intentions involved.

“Aren’t you free enough already? I’m the one who’s tied up with your damn Nen.” Illumi retorts. He intended for his words to bite, and that raspy quality helps him sound quite threatening.

Hisoka giggles for a moment, shoulders barely shaking up and down. Illumi feels more than hears the sound, since Hisoka’s broad chest is pressed close to Illumi’s own.

“Interesting~” Hisoka sing-sangs. Illumi frowns. “Don’t you like being tied down like this, used by me like this?”

Illum opens his mouth to answer – then, Hisoka moves his hips in a tight circle. It gives Illumi just enough sensation to force a new growl out of him. His Aura is flaring up again, making a dark curtain out of his long hair.

“ _No_.”

That’s a lie if there ever was one. Illumi knows it, Hisoka knows it, everybody who’d heard him would know it. It’s obvious, though not only from the way his hips have snapped up when Hisoka moved his own. Illumi’s arms have tightened around Hisoka’s shoulders, as if he cannot make his mind up – does he want Hisoka to fuck off, or does he want him even closer to him?

“Liar.” Hisoka accuses him. Illumi’s frown darkens, just like his eyes. The spirals become more prominent, although Hisoka can’t really tell, because Illumi’s hair is in the way. “You love this. I know you do. I know you~”

Illumi’s Nen flares up spectacularly. This is the most it’s gone up thus far, directly clashing with Hisoka’s voluble Bungee Gum. Hisoka narrows his eyes, but he also lets all strength disappear from his body. This way, he’s forcing Illumi to hold him up while also pinning Illumi down with his own body-weight.

The sole reaction he gets is Illumi’s Nen exploding, dark purple and murderous.

It washes over Hisoka in waves, raw power pouring down on him from all angles. It’s almost like a hurricane is trying its best to dislodge him – Hisoka holds on to Illumi, and Illumi _growls_. The sound catches Hisoka off-guard, because it’s sounded dangerous beyond what the word can possibly convey. Hisoka has almost never seen Illumi utterly angry; and when he has, all his ire has always been directed at somebody else. To see it this up close, to know he’s the root cause of it, well…

… it turns Hisoka _right the fuck_ on.

Hisoka purrs, though maybe that was a moan. Illumi’s answer is to move without a single warning. Suddenly, Illumi’s arms aren’t around Hisoka anymore; and the Bungee Gum almost breaks under the onslaught of Illumi’s unrestrained power. Hisoka moans once more when he finds himself on the bed, lying on his back with Illumi seated across his hips. Somewhere along the movement, he’s slid out of Illumi, and he instantly misses the constant pressure assaulting his senses from all sides.

Illumi’s dark-purple Nen coalesces around his muscled arms, to Hisoka’s delight – delight, because he can see every hue due to his current posture. The Magician knows perfectly well that Illumi is powerful enough to set himself free from all Nen in a split second; and yet, he fights to keep his Bungee Gum on him.

The way his pink Nen flares up too is the physical manifestation of that intent.

Illumi growls, not unlike a chained beast who wants out. He opens his arms, slow just because Hisoka is fighting back a lot. The Bungee Gum stretches over his skin, its usually soft texture suddenly much sharper. So Hisoka is using the full extent of his ability now, though in plain sight – it’s unlike him to be so overt with his Nen, especially in the middle of a fight. Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been enough to make Illumi pause and carefully reconsider his plan, but now…

Now the only thing in his mind is how much he wants to overpower Hisoka, to pay him back with the same coin.

“ ** _Do you want a challenge so badly?_** ” Illumi asks, voice low and dangerous. The rasp is gone, maybe because his cock is no longer trapped – yet Hisoka trembles just the same.

“Would you hurt me?” Hisoka asks. His tone is as neutral as he can manage, given the circumstances. His Nen ebbs higher, up towards Illumi’s elbows, and is immediately turned down. “Never mind, I’ll assume that’s a yes.”

“ ** _Clever._** ” Illumi simply says. The word rings clear, so sharp that it almost hurts to hear it. Hisoka shivers – in fear or in anticipation; it’s anybody’s guess.

“Thank you~” Hisoka teases him. Dark purple Nen slaps his face, quick and hard. Hisoka moves with the hit, mewling. “Do it again…”

“ ** _Fucked-up bastard._** ” Illumi accuses him.

Hisoka rolls his eyes to look to Illumi’s face but refuses to move his head. Whether it’s from pride or plain stubbornness is, again, anybody’s guess – even so, Illumi’s money is on “pride”. The insult doesn’t seem to have deterred Hisoka in the slightest, if the white-hot intensity in his eyes is any indicator. Illumi would be pissed, but he knows Hisoka a bit too well for that. Besides, the Magician eats up derogative words as easily as others eat up compliments.

“Tell me more…” Hisoka purrs, further confirming Illumi’s theory. “Tell me how fucked-up I am, how sick and twisted I am…” Illumi’s Nen flares up, perhaps from the words, perhaps from the tone Hisoka’s using. “Fuck me hard, and call me disgusting~”

A new wave of dark purple leaves Hisoka’s cheek a deep red.

The Magician moans again. Illumi’s hair floats loosely around him, moved by the unnatural winds that his own bloodlust creates. Hisoka has seen enough of Illumi’s rage to recognise which part of this is lust, and which is downright murder – he’s not surprised to see the ratio is completely unbalanced.

“ ** _You’re fucking twisted._** ” Illumi growls. He brings both his hands down, around Hisoka’s exposed neck. When the redhead raises his own, Illumi’s Nen rebounds him. A split second later, Illumi’s Nen has dissolved that damned Bungee Gum. “ ** _If you truly want pain this much, you’ll feel it now._** ”

“I do want it this much…” it’s obvious that Hisoka has tried to use his sing-sang voice, because he knows by now that it riles Illumi up, but he’s too tied down to unleash its full potential. Still, it seems to affect Illumi.

The assassin half opens his mouth, almost like he’s deep in thought. It’s probably a façade, because when does Illumi not have a plan _and_ a back-up one, but Hisoka feels it like it’s the real deal. Illumi keeps one hand curled around Hisoka’s neck, making even swallowing hurt like the flames of hell. The other moves back, to Hisoka’s hips. Hisoka just observes the situation, observes _him_ , curious and pinned, his own pink Nen kept to dangerously low levels.

Whenever Hisoka’s Nen is this contained, it’s because he’s putting some scheme into place.

Illumi cocks his head to one side, long locks falling over his shoulder. He looks almost nonchalant, bracing his full weight on Hisoka, one hand wrapped around his throat without really choking him. Hisoka swallows again – immediately, the spirals in Illumi’s eyes circle clockwise, their lighter purple almost glowing. Hisoka assumes it’s Illumi’s reaction to feeling Hisoka’s apple bob, and doesn’t give it much more thought.

Illumi rocks his hips forward, like he’s merely testing the waters. He’s sitting with Hisoka’s cock directly in front of his own hardened flesh, so the motion brings their prides together. Hisoka moans, more for show than from exploding sensations. Illumi observes him, unblinking, like a predator ready to pounce. Hisoka opens his mouth, lets his tongue roam his lower lip from side to side. Illumi’s dark stare follows the motion, still without a single blink. Then, Hisoka rolls his hips upwards, the tip of his cock jumping up, free from how hard he is – from how desperate he is becoming. Illumi rides his hips like he’s sitting astride a mechanical bull, calculating and cold.

Damn him to hell and back, here Hisoka is trying to rile him up, and every intent is misfiring. Truthfully, Illumi’s composure is fucking legendary, even amongst fellow assassins; it’s no surprise, then, that a mere Magician can’t match him. Especially when their personalities are like day and night, like a show of warmth and cold colliding.

“ ** _Are you done?_** ” Illumi’s voice sounds loaded with overt intentions – he might be a Manipulator-type, but now he’s so ready to fight that his Nen’s advantages don’t even matter. “ ** _Are you done squirming like a dog?_** ”

Hisoka looks up from where their cocks are lying together, aiming sky-high. He stares right into Illumi’s eyes, a challenge shining like a reflection of pure light amongst the rich amber of his irises. He opens his mouth, lowers his tone as many octaves as he can, and charges his voice with as much rasp and Nen as he can summon without setting Illumi off.

“ ** _Woof_**.”

The slap is loud this time, heavy, because Illumi has used all of his strength.

The only reason why Hisoka doesn’t fly to the other side of the room is because the very riled-up assassin is still straddling him. Even so, Hisoka’s head is forced to turn, nose almost buried in the mattress from the sheer force of the impact. His long neck would be on full display if Illumi’s hand wasn’t so tight around his throat. Illumi is squeezing now, restricting the air coming into Hisoka’s system, letting only a thin trail of oxygen in through his fingers – he’s letting Hisoka exhale freely, though.

Illumi knows enough about anatomy and biology to know how lightheaded Hisoka will get. He’s anticipating it, even, his Nen flaring up until it resembles a mad whirlwind gyrating around them. They might be in the eye of the storm, in the calm in the middle, but it doesn’t feel that way for Hisoka – Illumi’s Nen is dangerous, true; but Illumi himself is more dangerous.

And he’s now focused the full extent of his ire on Hisoka.

The Magician sighs in delight, as collected as he can manage to be while Illumi’s unblinking stare is fixed on him.

For a tense moment, no one moves. The silence is only an illusion when their Nen is crackling around them, fierce and almost uncontrolled. It’s impossible to distinguish who’s making which sound, or who’s making their Nen crack the most. Their stares are locked, both dark and hungry, true intentions both hidden and in plain sight.

Then, Illumi lunges forward. His oppressive Nen is within range of Hisoka, yet he prefers to move physically – as if, somehow, that will make him feel more powerful, more in control. His teeth find Hisoka’s mouth before the Magician has a sliver of a chance to react, and then they’re kissing.

Well, not exactly. This show of dominance is not kissing; it’s just a frenzied dance of teeth and tongue, both tasting metal and loving it. They pant into each other’s mouths, passion and Nen unrestrained. Hisoka moans as he bites Illumi’s lower lip, hard, making blood surge forward. Illumi reciprocates by tightening his hand around Hisoka’s throat, until all the sounds he can make are breathy whines.

It’s not often that Hisoka feels overpowered, but this is definitely high up on his list. He knows he should know better than to challenge Illumi like this; at the end of the day, this is something they do for fun, to relieve some steam, no strings attached.

That’s a big fat lie, and he knows it, but he still refuses to acknowledge it.

Hisoka tries to move his hands, and his own Bungee Gum curls tight around them, ebbing almost in time with Illumi’s tongue prodding into the cuts at his lips. Hisoka would moan, but he can only open his mouth even further. The flat of his tongue slides against Illumi’s, the sensation as hot as their shared breath.

Hisoka is out of air by now, and he feels as though he’s drowning. Illumi realises it; this up-close, he can catch the exact moment when Hisoka’s eyes glaze over. He parts from Hisoka, letting the distance allow him a better look.

The Magician looks simultaneously lost in pain and pleasure, mouth open, eyes half-lidded but still staring stubbornly into Illumi’s, throat restricted by Illumi’s hand. His body is limp, abdominals relaxed because he’s not breathing and has not been for a while. Somewhere amidst their kissing, both his arms have fallen onto the mattress, where Illumi can observe them, long and muscled. Even his hips and legs are unmoving, open at either side of Illumi. His cock, though, has not gone completely soft – if anything, it looks like he’s hardening over this rough treatment.

If Illumi was in any better state of mind, he would measure his actions extremely carefully from now on.

“ ** _Done so soon? You, who wanted to be treated like this, can’t take it when I give it to you rough?_** ”

Illumi lets go of Hisoka’s throat, slaps his face in time with Hisoka’s first intake of oxygen in what feels like an entire eternity. The Magician moans at the hit, chokes on air, and reels. His spine suddenly curves upwards, but Illumi doesn’t let him rise from the bed – even when that would let him breathe properly.

Hisoka coughs for a couple seconds more. Then, his breathing stabilises a little bit. Illumi cocks his head to one side once more, observing him closely. Hisoka slowly, _deliberately_ _slowly_ , turns his gaze towards him. Their eyes meet. Illumi knows on instinct that Hisoka is preparing some explosive answer. He’s curious to hear it, so he leaves his throat free. Besides, it’s so reddened now that it’s appealing to look at it.

“I love it when you treat me like this, do it more~”

Illumi has never had a specific thing for begging, but he definitely has a thing for _Hisoka_ begging.

“ ** _Can you take it~?_** ” Illumi asks, imitating Hisoka’s usual sing-sang at the end of the sentence. Contrary to Hisoka, though, Illumi sounds more nonchalant than playful. At best, he’s sounded curious. It makes Hisoka smirk, wide and predatory.

“You must not know me very well, if you’re asking me that…”

Illumi doesn’t bite that bait. It’s painfully clear that Hisoka has only said that to get a reaction out of him, so he won’t give him that pleasure. It will frustrate Hisoka. And, again, a frustrated Hisoka is fun.

Illumi moves up Hisoka’s body, letting his cock (or his balls, if the cock cannot reach) slide against Hisoka’s body. The Magician contracts his abdominals when Illumi moves closer to them. He’s had enough girls grinding against his muscles to guess that it feels good, so there’s no reason he shouldn’t try it with Illumi, too. At any rate, Illumi will let him know whether it feels good or bad.

“ ** _Ah_** _~_ ”

It feels good, then.

Illumi has stopped moving upwards, and is now just grinding against Hisoka. His plump ass fits perfectly against Hisoka’s cock, as if he’s made to be penetrated and not to penetrate. Hisoka smirks, moves one arm under his head to prop himself up. Now, he has a better vision of Illumi rocking against him.

The assassin looks lost in pleasure – he surely must be, if he moaned as obscenely as he did – his eyes are falling close. His ass rocks more insistently against Hisoka’s cock, and it falls perfectly in between his cheeks. Illumi shivers at the contact, bites his lips not to moan. His Nen’s intensity is remitting, which means that his hair is falling loose around his shoulders.

Hisoka reaches out with the hand not currently under his head, manages to caress the strands at Illumi’s waist. It only lasts a second, though – his hand is promptly swatted away by a rush of purple Nen.

Hisoka looks up to Illumi – literally – to find him already looking down on Hisoka – _literally_.

“Will you be a good boy for once?” Illumi asks, so suddenly that it makes Hisoka’s stomach twist. “Or will you remain a slut?”

“I am what I am, dear Illumi~” Hisoka punctuates the words with a lick at his lip, right where Illumi had bitten it during their last kiss.

Illumi doesn’t miss that Hisoka has not answered his question. So he just carries on like he’s obtained what he was looking for; because not letting Hisoka know that Illumi himself is sexually frustrated is the best way to make Hisoka sexually frustrated too.

Hisoka’s abdominals tighten even more when Illumi keeps sliding up, towards his shoulders. The assassin straddles the middle of his chest with graceful elegance, like this is what he’s always intended to do to Hisoka – like he’s thought about this a million times before, but never had a chance of fulfilling his desires.

Illumi rocks his hips back and forth, and Hisoka’s mind empties. He can feel the softness of Illumi’s skin on his. He can feel Illumi’s balls against his pectorals. He can feel Illumi’s thighs over his nipples.

Yet it is not enough. He doubts it will ever be enough.

“Arms on the bed.” Illumi commands.

Hisoka doesn’t obey right away, just to see what Illumi’s reaction will be.

Illumi’s reaction is a single, but pointed, frown. It seems to engulf his whole face, the expression suiting his cool demeanour incredibly well. Illumi’s factions tend to be as neutral as his emotions, so Hisoka treasures this moment only because he can see Illumi’s feelings painted clear in his face. And it’s not like he doesn’t already treasure a legion of other small moments, anyway.

Hisoka obeys the command, and the frown melts away.

“Good slut.” Illumi whispers. His hips slither further up, his thighs sliding off onto the mattress from the curves of Hisoka’s shoulders. Hisoka licks his lips in anticipation, preparing himself to receive Illumi’s cock inside his mouth. “Ah, that’s not what I want.”

Illumi has sounded so nonchalant that Hisoka’s gaze flies up to him in a second. He opens his mouth to ask, or maybe to retort, or even to tease Illumi – Illumi cuts him off before he’s had time to say a single syllable.

“You’ll understand soon enough. Your priority is to give me pleasure. If you do that well, I might let you come again.”

“ _Might_?” Hisoka inquires. The amber of his eyes seems to have fossilised.

“That’s what I said.” Illumi replies, tone still matter-of-fact.

And then, before Hisoka can interject, he moves his ass from Hisoka’s shoulders to his face.

Hisoka moans, instantly reaches up with his hands to adjust Illumi’s weight over him – after all, this will not be fun for Illumi if Hisoka is constantly choking. And Illumi weights enough to crush Hisoka’s windpipe if he isn’t careful. Not that Hisoka can’t hold him up, though; he’s plenty strong.

To Hisoka’s surprise, Illumi allows himself to be swayed this or that way. He lets Hisoka pick the best position, considering everything he needs to consider. Illumi doesn’t even have to tell Hisoka to put his arms back onto the mattress as soon as he’s done, since Hisoka does it on his own volition.

There’s a certain fire being kindled inside Illumi from how submissive Hisoka is.

Illumi moans, trying to contain himself, when Hisoka’s tongue prods at him. The perverted Magician closes his eyes, letting himself enjoy this – after all, he was the one who wanted to explore Illumi’s ass more thoroughly. This is a chance to do just that. He intends to make the best out of it.

Illumi quivers when Hisoka slowly runs the flat of his tongue from his entrance to his perineum. The shiver itself makes Illumi’s cock bob until it hits Hisoka’s face. The redhead moans at that, the sound muffled by Illumi’s heated skin. Still, Illumi hangs his head until his hair obscures his factions. He looks embarrassed about the sounds he’s making, no matter how much Hisoka is enjoying them.

Hisoka wants to show Illumi that there is no reason to hold back, so he licks that same spot once more. Illumi moans again, unrestrained. Hisoka echoes it a moment later, and Illumi cants his hips forward. Hisoka gets a new taste of Illumi’s perineum, directly on the flat of his tongue, and he moans. His fingers curl where they rest on the mattress, a tell-tale sign of him wanting to touch Illumi. He brings his hands a tiny inch closer to their bodies.

Illumi catches the slight movement only due to his trained periphery-vision. If he was any other person, Hisoka would’ve gotten away with it; but this is _Illumi_. It’s not the most flagrant disobedience, though; and Hisoka is still licking like his life is on the line. So Illumi lets it slide, for now – he _will_ chastise Hisoka if he takes it further.

And, because Hisoka is Hisoka and he has never learnt how to obey properly, his hands keep moving closer.

Illumi acts like he hasn’t noticed until those long fingers are close enough to graze him. Then, he activates his Nen.

Hisoka growls – he can’t really speak right now – when Illumi easily manipulates his wrists. Hisoka’s arms are forced to move above his head, still on the mattress. He does not fight back with his own Nen; but that doesn’t mean he won’t test Illumi’s control.

“ _Bastard_.” Illumi growls.

Hisoka chuckles, the sound travelling fast throughout Illumi’s system. There’s a particularly thin strand of Bungee Gum connecting the tip of Hisoka’s tongue with some obscure point at Illumi’s crotch. The assassin can feel subtle pushes and pulls whenever Hisoka licks at him – it’s pleasure and pain at its maximum.

Illumi growls again, open-mouthed, torso inclining forward. He catches himself before he fully falls, but only because the motion reduces the pull of that fucking Bungee Gum. His hands grab handfuls of the mattress, right at that tight space caged in between Hisoka’s extended arms and hair. A plan starts to simmer inside Illumi’s mind as soon as he catches a flash of red. But this is not the best moment to put it into action, so he waits.

Meanwhile, Hisoka is giggling light and quick, like a delighted incubus. He’s also feeling accomplished, and mischievous – he hadn’t expected such a pointed reaction, but he can’t say that he doesn’t enjoy it tremendously. He opens his eyes, and Illumi is right there, above him, spirals still inside his eyes, hair cascading free around his figure. Illumi is always beautiful to look at, and now his beauty is accentuated by the force of his lust.

Hisoka can’t get enough of it. He will never get enough of it.

Illumi rocks his hips, and Hisoka gives his perineum a quick kiss. There’s not even a shadow of teeth in it. Illumi shivers. In his mind, Hisoka’s long tongue has a reputation for being dexterous; and this is proving him right. It’s long, so it reaches places that have never been touched in this way; and Hisoka definitely knows what he’s doing. And his Nen provides some interesting sensations, too. Illumi is reminded, not for the last time, of Hisoka’s superior experience in bed.

Illumi moans again, loud. His eyes half-open and meet Hisoka’s. That makes him moan once more, slightly louder. He’s trembling all over, unrestrained, not bothering to hide a sliver of the pleasure he’s feeling. There’s no point in him trying to pretend that he isn’t enjoying this – he’s getting wetter by the second, and he knows Hisoka knows it too.

Hisoka gives out a small noise, almost a purr. His tongue is gentle when it circles the tight ring of muscle at Illumi’s entrance, prodding insistently. Still, it seems to Illumi that he’s doing his best to be soft – and he’s succeeding, although Illumi would never say it out loud. It’s embarrassing enough that his voice has been let loose, Illumi doesn’t think he can take much more embarrassment.

Hisoka’s tongue does something new, and Illumi keens.

The assassin squirms like he wants to get away from the foreign sensation. Hisoka, who is far more experienced, knows exactly why this reaction is happening now. He also knows how to avoid the freak-out. He moves his hands to Illumi’s hips, steadying his lover on top of him. Hisoka takes a deep breath, too, just because he can – if Illumi applies any more of that inhuman strength, Hisoka would choke again.

Hisoka wouldn’t really protest Illumi choking him, but that wouldn’t be much fun. And it wouldn’t get Illumi off as quickly as Hisoka’s lustful attentions can.

Illumi doesn’t tell Hisoka to get his hands off of him. That surprises both of them, since Illumi has been more than clear about not wanting to be touched. Hisoka lets out a new, small sound – Illumi decides to take it as a tiny moan.

“You truly are loud in bed.” Illumi comments. It’s not chastising, although it could certainly be taken that way by some.

Thankfully, Hisoka is shameless enough to not be deterred. In fact, his response is to tease the tip of his tongue around Illumi’s entrance once more, all of his movements kept small. His strength is coiled, and his posture is poised even sprawled open like he is. Illumi can’t deny there’s something very appealing about Hisoka when he’s this driven, this determined to bring Illumi’s composure down.

“…slut.” Illumi accuses, aiming for a stern tone – alas, his voice breaks. He only manages to sound cute, and breathless, and not nearly as dominant as he’d loved to be.

When Hisoka giggles, Illumi can feel it rumble throughout his ass and hips. His cock bobs from the delighted darkness contained in Hisoka’s voice.

It’s so appealing, to know Hisoka could utterly break him with his greater physical strength; which truly is saying something, considering Illumi’s own strength is inhumanly powerful. Illumi silently shifts the bulk of his weight from his thighs to his arms, figures that breathing will be easier for Hisoka now.

(Truth be told, it’s not really Hisoka’s comfort in his mind – it’s his own pleasure he’s favouring. Hisoka will be able to have a better reach if Illumi’s full weight isn’t crushing him into the bedcovers, and so Illumi’s pleasure will increase.)

Hisoka’s long fingers curl around Illumi’s hipbones, thumbs resting right below the marked, diagonal lines pointing towards his crotch. Illumi wonders if Hisoka will ever dig his nails into his flesh, whether his blood would run down onto the bed or onto Hisoka himself. Hisoka’s tongue is leisurely slow as it dances between the ring of muscle and his perineum, and Illumi moans.

Then, Hisoka’s hands gain strength. His touch turns into a vice-grip, something impossible to escape from. Illumi notices it, but doesn’t say a single word; he’s perfectly fine with things getting rough. They’ve certainly done much rougher today, and Hisoka is being way too soft right now. Strangely, Hisoka’s current gentleness makes Illumi miss the way he was handled earlier, when he was tied up with Bungee Gum and fucked hard within an inch of his life.

Oh, how absolutely delightful would it be to literally die from the best orgasm of his life, after being fucked literally within an inch of his life…

Hisoka, who undoubtedly shares that particular fantasy (but who’d rather be the one dying at Illumi’s hands), takes him out of the reverie. Hisoka suddenly twirls the tip of his tongue in some strange way that Illumi has never experienced before – not on his ass, not on his cock. He slithers into Illumi’s body, small and wet and almost treacherous.

Illumi trembles against him, hangs his head even lower, hair falling everywhere around him. This is something he was not expecting – he should’ve known Hisoka is dirty enough for this; although maybe “kinky” is a better word than “dirty”. Considering what Illumi has seen of Hisoka’s sexual tendencies so far, the Magician is definitely a very kinky one. Illumi would never protest because of that, though; he’s enjoying this breach a little too much. If he protests, it will be in the form of physically movement against the Magician – and only if (not even when, his mind only says _if_ ) Hisoka hurts him deep.

Hisoka curls his tongue, just on the inside of Illumi’s entrance. His tongue is long, longer than most, but he still cannot reach very far like this. That doesn’t mean he can’t get a good taste, though; and he’s moaning and purring all over. All those little sounds go directly to Illumi’s crotch, making his cock jump up and down. Illumi moans, loud, and Hisoka’s hands tighten even more. Illumi can feel each nail digging into his skin, without breaking it, but definitely pressing hard.

Hisoka keeps his tongue inside of Illumi and twirls it again. The flesh around him is pliant enough from being fucked earlier, and so it gives easier than usual. Hisoka does not do this often – Illumi is one of less than five – so he wants to take his time. His dear assassin is more than worth it, and his sounds are to die for, and the way he’s unable to stay still is driving Hisoka half insane.

Hisoka moves his tongue from side to side, hot and heavy. Illumi moans more. A new rumble from Hisoka forces another moan out of him. His tongue gains speed. Illumi’s hips rock forward. Hisoka braces his hands better, just in case. Illumi presses closer to his mouth, moans again.

Then, Hisoka does a new tiny movement, and something figuratively breaks inside of Illumi. Hisoka quickly moves him from his face to his shoulders, buried three fingers inside of Illumi, allows him to come over Hisoka freely.

Illumi is much too gone to truly realise he’s been moved, but still feels the pointed change from tongue to fingers. Hisoka presses deep inside him, searching for the obvious place. When he finds it – because this is _Hisoka_ , he always gets his way – Illumi can only come harder, throwing his head back with so much force that his hair flies above him and falls down his back.

This doesn’t even feel like coming; it feels like a supernova has gone off. Illumi cannot remember a single time when he’s come this hard, this much, on his second orgasm of the night. Hisoka truly brings out a new side of him…

And then, there’s a new star born from the explosion of his hips.

Illumi falls forward, so utterly breathless that he’s panting like he’s spent two full weeks training without a single pause. His hands find the mattress once more. He clings to the damp fabric, just because it’s physical and present and gives him something to hold on to. He doesn’t know when exactly he closed his eyes, but he opens them now, curious to see the likely mess he’s made – curious to see _where_ all of that had landed.

The vision forces a choked moan out of him, leaves him breathless all over again.

Hisoka is smiling up at him, that filthy tongue still out and licking at his own lips. His eyes are half-closed, which lets only a slender sliver of dark amber be seen. His gaze is so dark, so charged, that Illumi trembles just because it’s _him_ that Hisoka is looking at. But the thing that disarms Illumi the most is that both of Hisoka’s cheeks and mouth are covered in thick, sticky white. Hisoka looks like a used whore, apparently satisfied – yet already craving more.

Illumi tentatively moves one finger to Hisoka’s lips, unnerved at how much he’s trembling. He’s so unsteady that it makes him mad, his Nen flaring up weakly – weakly, because he’s spent, and not because his power has diminished. Hisoka giggles at the light purple waves coalescing behind Illumi, which earns him a frown.

“You look mad…” Hisoka taunts, voice rough but still teasing beyond measure. “…don’t you want to slap me~?”

“Shut – up –” Illumi threatens – but he’s so breathless that he has to speak word-by-word, and he doesn’t sound threatening at all. At best, it can be interpreted as playful, or even as teasing Hisoka back.

Hisoka giggles again. His tongue runs all over his lips, and he manages to lick at Illumi’s finger. The assassin lets out a tiny puff of air.

“You’re a sight to behold, my dear~” Hisoka sighs.

Illumi stares at him, blushing more than he wants to admit. This… these words… they’re a bit odd, even for Hisoka. Illumi is used by now to being called an assortment of pet-names, because Hisoka being Hisoka means he’s shameless about it, whether in public or in private. But he’s never really gone this far – true, he’s called him “dear Illumi” more than once, but never “my dear” without also saying his name.

Somehow, this feels much more intimate than everything else they’ve done before (sex absolutely included). Illumi suddenly sits lower on Hisoka’s body, ass resting against his cock, leans down over Hisoka until he can lick at the white on his face. Hisoka moans, surprised, but welcomes Illumi with literally open arms. He’s fallen out of Illumi’s ass, but it doesn’t bother him – it does bother Illumi, though; he suddenly feels empty, and he doesn’t like it.

It’s surprising, to realise that Illumi is as much of a whore as Hisoka himself is.

Hisoka closes his eyes and lets Illumi work, tangling his fingers on the strands that have fallen by his hands. Illumi’s hair is absolutely ruined and damped by their activities, but it still feels soft – Hisoka suspects Nen more than he does great haircare – wait.

Did Illumi use his Nen to let his hair fall practically into Hisoka’s hands? Because, if the answer is yes, then Illumi knows Hisoka much better than he’d thought.

The Magician allows himself to smile, lips half-opened just to let his tongue out to roam his lips once more. Illumi follows the motion with his gaze before replacing it with his finger. He’s still trembling a lot from how violently he’s just come, so he keeps sliding away from Hisoka’s mouth and onto his chin and cheeks. Hisoka doesn’t comment because he knows that, right now, Illumi wouldn’t take it as a playful quip.

His already-dark amber gaze darkens more, pupils dilated until the black almost swallows all the honey. Illumi sits up, straightening his back. It makes Hisoka’s cock rest comfortably heavy in between his exposed cheeks. Hisoka moans – Illumi _whines_.

“Can’t believe you’re still dressed…” Hisoka teases, gaze roaming Illumi’s torso. The assassin blinks in surprise, once, and follows Hisoka’s line of sight.

“Ah.” He says simply. He’d intended to sound nonchalant, but he’s failed. He has sounded excited, like he wants to be fully naked in Hisoka’s strong arms. “I thought you like it when I’m dressed and you’re not.”

“But I also like it when you’re naked in front of me~” Hisoka responds. His hands are already rising towards the damp clothe still on Illumi. The golden buttons gleam under the light when Illumi moves back, preventing Hisoka from touching him. Hisoka pouts at that. “Oh, come _ooooon_ …”

“Stretching the sound will not help you.” This time, Illumi does sound neutral.

The pout on Hisoka’s face deepens.

Illumi had been planning to say more, but he’s also been disarmed – Hisoka might be a grown-ass man, but he still has more than enough charm for this. It’s cute, even if a bit twisted, and Illumi cannot really resist. Hisoka knows it, of course he does, and that’s why he keeps utilising the full extent of his charm.

Until Illumi decided he’s had enough.

“ _Ah…_ ”

That single moan disarms Illumi’s mind even more. Thankfully, his body knows the motions. So he repeats the slap, swift, aiming to sting more than to truly hurt.

“ _Illumi…_ ”

“You’re shameless.” Illumi accuses him. “My whore.”

Hisoka trembles at that. He’s used to being degraded, to being used (even abused in some regards) by Illumi, but this… This is Illumi calling him his, just like Hisoka has done before. Something the Magician did not expect. At all.

So now the disarmed one is Hisoka, and his arms flail and fall back onto the bed with a firm _thud_ , aided by both gravity and desire. His gaze is glued to Illumi’s own, fossilised amber clashing with dark purple alight. Hisoka can feel its heavy weight like a physical force keeping him in place. He shivers on reflex, feeling vulnerable.

He’s not used to feeling vulnerable.

Illumi leans in and bites his neck, almost like a call to attention. Hisoka moans, and quickly throws his head to the opposite side, letting Illumi have more room. He does not know what the assassin has in mind, but he trusts him just the same. Thus far, Illumi has not disappointed him – has rewarded Hisoka in more ways than one, in fact.

The Magician moves one hand to Illumi’s hair, forcing him even closer. Illumi lets him pull on the long locks with more strength than necessary, as if he’s now rewarding Hisoka for something he did a long time ago. Hisoka doesn’t know why exactly he needs to be rewarded after being slapped so loudly, but he’s not about to protest. Not when it rebounds into his own benefit.

Illumi bites a heavy, angry-red mark into Hisoka’s neck, almost enough to make him bleed. Hisoka doesn’t feel the rivers he was expecting, which prompts him to giggle, and that, in turn, makes Illumi rise his head to _stare_ at him. He’s frowning again.

“You’re going soft, dear Illumi~” Hisoka taunts. He still doesn’t fully open his eyes, though he does cant his hips against Illumi’s. “No blood?”

“Do you want me to bleed you out?” Illumi retorts. Before Hisoka can answer, he moves to the opposite side of Hisoka’s neck, bites down as hard as he can. Hisoka moans, loud and pained and delighted. Illumi travels slightly, bites him again, tastes dulled copper in his tongue. “Do you still think I’m going soft?”

“Your cock definitely is.”

Now _that_ makes Illumi slap Hisoka again. The moan echoing the motion isn’t new anymore, but the transference of drying come from Hisoka’s to Illumi’s skin is.

“You’re too messy.” Illumi forcefully inserts his fingers into Hisoka’s mouth, his knuckles forcing Hisoka’s jaw to drop. “Clean me.”

Hisoka has a protest in his eyes and rebellion in his teeth, but his tongue complies. Still, his need for defiance manifests in the fire hidden inside his amber eyes as he stares up at Illumi. The assassin returns the stare with the same intensity, that marked frown still in place. Hisoka likes him better not frowning, though; light pink looks great on Illumi’s pale skin. So he obeys, slowly, letting his long tongue dance around Illumi’s equally long fingers.

When Hisoka’s tongue forces his fingers apart, sliding lasciviously in between them, Illumi blushes light pink.

The redheaded sin beneath his hips smiles, mouth still full and cock still hard, and rests his fangs against Illumi’s skin. The assassin’s frown hasn’t dissolved, even though Hisoka is doing what was requested of him – there’s a marked challenge inside those half-closed, amber eyes.

The taste of Illumi’s come explodes inside Hisoka’s mouth, makes him want more. He’s used to the way Illumi tastes after a fresh kill – disinhibited, wild, feral, with a desire to use Hisoka in every way possible. The best orgasms Hisoka has ever had come from those brief encounters. He assumes it’s the same for Illumi, because he keeps seeking Hisoka out whenever he’s strung tight like this.

Well, not like _this_ this. Right now, Illumi is looking at him with his head tilted to one side, black eyes plagued with purple spirals – Hisoka would be worried if Illumi was practising his Manipulation on him, but he isn’t. He’s just letting Hisoka do his own thing, at his own rhythm, licking broad trails on his fingers, canting his hips upwards so that the underside of his cock brushes against Illumi’s ass.

Illumi moans a dragged-out sigh as he drags his fingers out of Hisoka’s mouth.

“You’re still hard.” Illumi comments, nonchalant – but Hisoka can detect all the underlying tension.

“Because I want you~” Hisoka retorts, shameless. He lets his tongue rest between his parted lips, allowing Illumi to see everything that could be his to take.

Oh, who is he trying to kid. Hisoka already is Illumi’s.

“You always want me.” Illumi retorts. He blindly reaches behind his own body, grabbing at Hisoka’s cock. He doesn’t tug on it, barely lets it rest in his palm. Hisoka’s gaze pierces through his Aura and into his own spiralled eyes. “Why are you still hard?”

“I want you…” Hisoka repeats, because seeing Illumi atop him like this is almost short-circuiting his brain. His voice has come out in a prolonged whine, which seemed to only fuel Illumi further.

“How do you want me?” Illumi asks, sliding his loose grip towards the tip. Hisoka can’t help the violent way in which his hips snapped upwards. “ _Ah_ …”

“I want you riding me.” Hisoka confesses – but it doesn’t feel like a confession, because he’s telling it to Illumi, who never judges him beyond some degrading words in bed. Outside of it, they’re equals. Hisoka loves that dynamic too much to ruin it by trying to rationalize it. “I want you open around my cock, I want to bury myself as deep inside you as you can take me.”

Illumi slides his hand from tip to base, and back up again. Hisoka doesn’t even try to dissimulate the pleasure in his face.

“I could take something longer than you.” Illumi states, his tone unassuming and plain. Hisoka frowns slightly at his words, because damnit, he’s not small – not in length, not in girth. “You’ve a good cock, though.”

“Only “good”?” Hisoak pouts, trying to coax more dirty words out of his favourite assassin. He loves it when Illumi talks filth.

“Great.” Illumi rectifies. “You’re not perfect, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“I never claimed to be.” Hisoka replies. He rolls his hips, and Illumi lets him, rides the waves without faltering. His thighs flex from the tension in his muscles. It makes Hisoka moan. “You’re too good to me, my dear…”

Illumi can tell the exact emotions Hisoka is feeling just from how he’s trailed off into a new moan, instead of into that sing-sang tone he tends to overuse. The praise hits really close to home, though; Illumi has never received much of that outside of Hisoka’s bed.

“I’m not letting you have what you want. That’s not being good to you.” Illumi says. He needs to rationalise this somehow, because he’s not used to these emotions.

“It is.” Hisoka rolls his hips again. Illumi’s fingertips press against the undersides of his flared head. Hisoka moans, loud and needy. “ ** _Illumi…_** ”

Purple-black eyes stare into amber. Illumi twists his wrist, lets Hisoka have more pleasure. Then, he grabs hold of Hisoka’s hands – letting go of his cock in the process. That makes Hisoka hiss a protest, already much too gone for a coherent protest. His pink Nen is flaring up, too, a threat and a manifestation of desire, all in one pink blob of Aura taking the gel out of his hair. Illumi stares, and then guides Hisoka’s hands to the undone flaps of his own shirt.

“Take this off me.” Illumi commands, letting go of Hisoka’s hands and reaching behind his own body once more. He finds Hisoka’s cock as angry as he’d left it, grips him around the head, lets his other arm rest limp until his curved fingers lean on Hisoka’s side, below his ribcage and by his abs. “I want to be fully naked in front of you.”

Hisoka doesn’t need to be told twice, because he’s been dying to do this for quite a long time today. He manages to slide the cloth down on Illumi’s arms, revelling in every inch of pale skin that is revealed to him. He’s seen Illumi fully naked before, and yet his breathe catches in his throat all the same whenever his dear assassin allows him to disrobe him. It feels intimate to Hisoka, as if Illumi’s the only one he’s seen in this state. Which is ridiculous, considering Hisoka’s love of sex. That tells him that Illumi is special.

Illumi has to disengage Hisoka for a moment to take the shirt fully off. Hisoka allows him, staring directly into Illumi’s neck, where he’s bitten his mark into his flesh – his chest, toned and pale – his hips, his marked bone structure drawing a sharp V – his _cock_ –

Hisoka moans.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Illumi asks. The spirals inside his eyes have started to rotate. It indicates that his Nen is flaring up, too.

Hisoka moans, nods his head, and some locks fall onto his forehead. Illumi moves the hand not busy at Hisoka’s cock to that fiery red hair.

“I’m not opened like you want me.”

Hisoka can only try to look at Illumi’s face in between his own hair, the touch of Illumi’s fingertips on his head (much gentler than he thinks he deserves). He’s completely submissive once again, the challenge is gone from his eyes. Illumi stares into him.

“Answer me, Hisoka.”

“ _I want you_ …” Hisoka moans. When Illumi’s fingers slide down his face, closer to his mouth, Hisoka turns his head. “ _Illumi, I want you… I want to fuck you and I want to come inside you and I want to feel you drip back down onto my cock_ …”

Illumi blushes light pink at the sheer filth dripping from Hisoka’s mouth. It’s not rare to hear Hisoka spewing this kind of fantasy right into Illumi’s touch, but it truly is a completely different thing to hear him this submissive. His eyes are half closed, his mouth opened as he tries to lick at Illumi’s fingers, dried come painting his skin translucid, make-up and hair-gel gone.

He looks too much like Illumi’s dirtiest, most secret fantasies.

Illumi holds Hisoka’s cock taut against his ass, rolls his hips back. Hisoka closes his eyes and chokes on a moan, pointed fangs holding Illumi’s fingers in place. Illumi’s Nen flares down, disengages, recognising Hisoka as not-a-threat.

“Look at me.”

Hisoka does.

“Lick my fingers.”

Hisoka does.

“Put me on the bed like you want me to be.”

Hisoka’s hands are almost revering when he slides them up, to Illumi’s hips. The Magician moves him slowly, although it’d be much easier for him to do it in one smooth motion. Hisoka leans Illumi on the mattress, right on the spot already warm from Hisoka’s own body-heat. Illumi is almost surprised when Hisoka runs both his hands through his long hair, extending it over the bed. He then opens Illumi’s legs and kneels between them, keeping one hand against Illumi’s hip.

“Let me open you.” Hisoka says. If he were any other lover, he would’ve asked for permission – if Illumi was any other lover, Hisoka would’ve just taken it from them. This choice of words, of actions, disarms Illumi more than he wants to admit. “Let me open your hot ass for my cock.”

Illumi blushes a darker shade of pink. The spirals are almost gone from his eyes, but his Aura is still in place. Hisoka takes Illumi in hand.

“ _Ah_!” Illumi moans, unable to bite his lips in time. “Bastard…”

Hisoka grins his usual self-indulgent grin, the one that he knows pleases Illumi the most. The assassin grabs at Hisoka’s thigh, apparently in warning – in reality, though, he’s just pleased to have a teasing Hisoka back. It’s fun when he can reduce Hisoka to a whimpering, obedient mess; but it’s even more fun when Hisoka defies him one-on-one.

Hisoka grins. He knew Illumi would appreciate the new texture of his touch, even if he cannot pinpoint the exact time when Hisoka’s brain kicked into motion – the moment when he went from submissive to defiant, from letting Illumi boss him around at will to using his own Nen to surprise Illumi.

“What’s wrong, Illumi? Don’t you like how your needles feel?”

Illumi, who is too used to his own weapons to be even remotely fazed, shoots him a marked frown, accompanied with the downwards curve of his mouth. Hisoka giggles in delight when, out of nothingness, a needle threatens the important vein at his groin.

“My dear Illumi, I don’t mean to hurt you~” Hisoka grins, his voice its usual sing-sang. “My Texture Surprise can’t alter my hands, only how they feel on your body~”

“Why my needles?” Illumi questions. He sounds like he does when he interrogates a target. Hisoka wonders if he would use the same level of sadism on Hisoka, too.

“Because it’s called Texture _Surprise_.” Hisoka’s expression is suddenly bland, like he’s disappointed that Illumi hasn’t gotten it yet. “What better thing to surprise you with?”

“Shut up.” Illumi commands. His purple Aura makes his hair splay even further away from his body. “Finger me. I want to feel you inside of me.”

“So eager…” Hisoka raises a hand to his own mouth, licks around two of his long fingers. “I’ve long nails and yet you’re letting me do this…? My, you’re more masochistic than I thought~”

Illumi frowns. He’s really more sadist than masochistic, but Hisoka already knows that. His comment was more to try and rile him up than to coax information out of him. Keeping that in mind, Illumi snaps his hips upwards. His hardening cock bobs up and down, falls against his thigh. Hisoka hums, licks his lips, and then his own fingers once more.

When Hisoka’s hand disappears between Illumi’s legs, the assassin moans.

“Does this feel good, dear?” Hisoka asks. He almost manages to slip the pet-name past Illumi’s brain – almost. Illumi’s frown informs him that he’s failed. The tip of the needle by his groin digs into the outer layers of his skin, not enough to draw blood just yet, but enough to be felt. “Do you want more, dear Illumi?”

“Shut up.” Illumi tries to relax, because Hisoka is relentless in his assault. “Just fuck me properly.”

“As you wish~”

Illumi has no time to order Hisoka to shut up, because the Magician has quickly leant down to bite his neck, close to the other marks. It’s almost like he’s completing the reddened necklace, Illumi realises with a new moan that he doesn’t even try to mask. He knows that Hisoka would feel it anyway, what with being this close to him.

Hisoka’s fingers are pressed inside Illumi, not shallowly, but not as deeply as they could be, either. He’s keeping his sharp nails away from the tender walls, almost like he doesn’t want to hurt Illumi in such an intimate place. Illumi spreads his thighs, bends his knees to change the angle. Hisoka moves with him, denying him the sweetest of touches, keeping his thrusts just about hard enough to maintain Illumi’s interest.

Illumi frowns, would even groan if it weren’t so improper for him to do so – he’s been educated in a too-high cradle, after all. So he resorts to glaring daggers into Hisoka’s face.

“What’s wrong, dear Illumi?” Hisoka asks. It sounds like a taunt. Illumi’s frown darkens. The spirals are back in place. Hisoka giggles. “Impatient~”

“I thought you were going to fuck me properly, not merely tease me.”

“Everything in time, my dear.”

Hisoka fucking _winks_ at him. Illumi sees dark purple.

Hisoka has just enough time to bite Illumi’s chest, right around his nipple. It’s the same spot he’s already bitten before, so the mark is now angry-red, the wound reopened to the point of letting fine little trails of red connecting Hisoka’s teeth with Illumi’s skin. The assassin tries to move, and Hisoka denies him.

“ ** _Fuck me_**.” Illumi demands.

Hisoka trembles at the sheer desire in those two words – wicked desire he didn’t even know Illumi could feel this fully. At any rate, he does not obey instantly, because he might be as desperate to get inside Illumi as Illumi is to have Hisoka deep inside, but Hisoka still doesn’t want to break Illumi. Teasing and biting and marking are all fine – he will not break him, however. And he has more than enough experience to know Illumi isn’t really opened enough for Hisoka’s thick cock.

And so he works his fingers, reaches as deep as his own body allows him to. Illumi moans at the contact, because Hisoka hits the jackpot on his first try and has the gall to smirk against Illumi’s bruised nipple.

That… bastard.

Illumi really is running out of words to describe Hisoka. Which is rare. His lexis used to be broader.

Hisoka brushes hard fingertips against Illumi’s prostate.

A new moan fills the room.

“Do you like that?” Hisoka mumbles, sounding like he’s speaking to himself and not to Illumi. “Do you like it when I hit you just like that?”

All Illumi can do is moan.

Hisoka smirks, moves to claim Illumi’s mouth in another biting kiss – only, this time the touch feels much softer. Less like a battle. More like a dance. Hisoka is moaning. Illumi is sighing and hissing just a little bit. Like he does when he’s enjoying sex a lot.

Hisoka twists his wrist on his way out, the angle changes, his fingertips touch the tenderest of places without doing any harm.

“ ** _Hisoka–!_** ”

That exclamation gives Hisoka pause, makes him keep his in-and-out at a steady pace, forces him to raise his head and _look_.

Illumi has his eyes closed, and his head is turned to one side. He’s blushing red, nowhere near the usual light pink that covers his features. Then again, he usually comes twice at most when in Hisoka’s bed, always justifies it by saying he doesn’t like to indulge himself too often. Hioka has always felt that was a bit of a lie, an omission of truth more than an invention, but has never been able to coax anything out of the disciplined Illumi.

Now, though… now he might be able to obtain some answers. Not with words, of course, Illumi would never tell him – never mind that he’s just too gone to be coherent by this point – no. This time, Illumi’s actions will speak volumes.

Actions like biting his fist to not give Hisoka the satisfaction of hearing him moan very loud. Like closing his eyes tightly and exposing his neck. Like arching his back up high every single time Hisoka hits his prostate. Or even like the uneven ebb of his hips, a tell-tale sign of how much he wants to fuck, to be fucked.

Hisoka’s feelings cannot be contained.

“You’re beautiful.” He tells Illumi. The assassin opens his eyes a sliver, letting Hisoka see deep purple spirals circling from the centre of the irises. “Beautiful…”

Hisoka kisses Illumi once more, more indulging lips and tongue than biting teeth. Illumi doesn’t even try to close his eyes, throws a trembling arm around Hisoka’s broad shoulders on utter instinct. Hisoka presses his hips closer to Illumi’s, until his own hand is trapped in between their bodies, until he almost has no space to thrust in and out.

A ring of needles forms around his wrist, tight enough that Hisoka would puncture himself if he tried to move away from Illumi.

“Alright, alright…” Hisoka giggles. “I won’t move.”

Illumi shoots him a dark look – it probably seems much darker than it really is just due to the multiple spirals working overtime. He looks just like he does when he’s strung up during a difficult mission, when his target is giving him quite the undesired workout. Hisoka tilts his head to the left, admiring how Illumi’s hair is getting messier and messier, because there’s dark purple Nen spreading throughout the top of the mattress.

But there’s no discernible pattern. It’s just… messy, uncoordinated, with no clear purpose.

It’s so different to Illumi’s usual behaviour that it makes Hisoka’s cock jump up, excited.

“ ** _Harder_**.” Illumi says, although he doesn’t sound at all like the Illumi that Hisoka knows. But at the same time, he sounds much more like Illumi’s true self, like that specific wilderness not completely tamed into nothingness by the Zoldyck Family. “ ** _Faster_**.”

“Can I get you to call my name again?” Hisoka asks in his sweetest voice. Truth be told, he doesn’t know how much he can press Illumi right now.

Then again, Hisoka has always loved a good challenge, and no one can challenge him like Illumi can.

“ ** _Hisoka_**.”

When Hisoka moves his hand slightly away from Illumi’s hole, because he doesn’t have enough leverage to work another couple of fingers inside of him right now, the gold needles cut thin rivers of red into his skin.

Hisoka moans at the soft sting, makes sure he’s four fingers deep into Illumi, and presses inside again.

The needles cut him again on his way in, running the same tracks, deepening the little wounds. Hisoka would protest, but he’s too entranced with how violently Illumi trembles beneath his touch. The assassin looks like he’s about to come any second now, eyes completely closed, Nen cascading around him as wildly as his long hair.

Hisoka can feel his wrist sting from Illumi’s needles, but he can also feel Illumi’s walls contract around his fingers.

The mixture of sensations is a strange one, although not unwelcome – because Hisoka being Hisoka means that he revels in violence more than in gentleness. And, when his dear Illumi opens his eyes to stare purple daggers into Hisoka’s chiselled chest, the Magician _moans_.

Illumi presses himself into Hisoka’s touch, raises one leg until his thigh quivers against Hisoka’s heated flesh. Illumi moans, low and contained somehow – Hisoka smirks – Illumi frowns – the spirals spin faster.

Suddenly, Hisoka is thrusting in and out of Illumi as fast and hard as the strength in his upper body allows him to. Illumi keens, back raising from the bed. Hisoka is almost surprised that he’s not trying to contain his sounds; but he’s more surprised that his own arm is moving without him commanding it to move. The smirk disappears from his face as he focuses in Illumi’s flushed face.

“You’re mean…” Hisoka drawls. He intended to sound sultry. In Illumi’s point of view, he’s failed.

“ ** _You’re not being good._** ” Illumi replies, voice rougher than usual from exertion and excitement. Hisoka shivers, and Illumi can feel it on his own thigh. “ ** _Fuck me proper and I wouldn’t have to do it myself._** ”

“Am I just a sex-toy, then?” Hisoka asks. He sounds calm, but Illumi knows he’s not – Illumi has spent more than enough time with this tricky Magician to catch his lies, his half-truths, the violent pounding of his heart. It doesn’t matter how much Hisoka tries to hide it, Illumi still knows.

And Hisoka knows that Illumi can read him easily.

“ ** _Yes_**.”

The simplicity of the word gets to Hisoka faster than its meaning. When he does get it, though, when his brain catches up to his crotch, Hisoka moans. Again. And he has not stopped the in-and-out – that might be lllumi’s Nen, but Hisoka wants to count it as his own effort because it’s his hand, damnit.

Illumi considers him for a moment. Then, he raises one hand. He’s a bit too far away to be able to touch Hisoka, so the Magician leans in. Illumi’s touch is distinctive on his skin, a sweet caress against his mouth. Hisoka doesn’t dare move – it’s not so much fear as it is respect. He knows Illumi doesn’t intend for this evening to end in murder. Only in white. Which is something they both want. So why stop Illumi?

Illumi’s Nen forces Hisoka out of his ass.

“Oy!” Hisoka protests, too worked up to imprint his usual careless sing-sang to his voice. “Why’d you do that? I thought you wanted to come.”

“ ** _And I do. From your cock._** ”

If Hisoka could get any harder, he certainly would have. Right now, he can only moan.

“ ** _I know you can fuck me good on your own_**.” Illumi continues, as if he hadn’t noticed the skipped beat in Hisoka’s pulse. “ ** _Fuck me, then. Show me how rough and fast and deep you can fuck me._** ”

Again, it’s the filth coming out of Illumi’s mouth what fuels Hisoka’s own desire.

With a groan that sounds like it came directly from deep within his throat, Hisoka forces Illumi to raise his other leg too, gives him enough of a hint for Illumi to understand what he’s going for.

Obedient, but never submissive, Illumi wraps his thighs around Hisoka’s waist. It brings Hisoka closer to him, closer to that part of him that feels too empty. Illumi’s Nen flares around them, pure dark power drawing the blinds until they can only see, hear, _feel_ , each other.

When the flared tip of Hisoka’s cock brushes against Illumi’s entrance, Illumi undulates his hips in just the right way to make it rest more fully against him. He draws a shaky breath, feeling opened and vulnerable under Hisoka – Hisoka, the well-known sadist who kills his bed-mates after a fuck, or so rumours say. Of course, at this point Illumi knows that’s only nonsense; but there’s a sliver of truth in there.

Hisoka certainly is a sadist. Yet he’s also just as big of a masochist. But that’s a secret. A secret that becomes obvious every time he fights. Or fucks. Still a secret in Illumi’s mind.

Hisoka doesn’t move for some long seconds, which he uses to study Illumi’s eyes. The assassin cranes his neck to try and look between his own legs, to some point below his cock. Hisoka tilts his head up with a hand under his chin. Illumi looks at him, and Hisoka’s breath catches. _Again_.

Those spirals are in place, but the irises retain their usual blackness, instead of the familiar dark purple they get when Illumi is using his Manipulation Nen. This speaks of control, of how Illumi is trying to supress the urge to take command and just let Hisoka do as he pleases. The Magician moans – whether from the trust or the view, nobody truly knows.

At any rate, it is enough to make Hisoka ram his cock into Illumi in one swift thrust that leaves him as deep inside his dear Illumi as he physically can be. Illumi throws his head back a bit, opens his mouth but bites his lower lip. Hisoka leans closer to him, until he can press his lips against the reddened marks on Illumi’s neck. The assassin lets him, accepts the closeness with uncharacteristic ease.

“ ** _Illumi…_** ” Hisoka moans, unable to contain himself, as he begins to move out and back in. “ ** _My dear Illumi…_** ”

“Hisoka–” Illumi tries to speak, but a moan cuts his sentence short. Then again, how could he not moan when Hisoka is moving so deliciously against him. “ _Ah_ –”

“Illumi…” Hisoka thrusts inside him again, making sure he hits what he knows is the spot inside Illumi that makes him keen the loudest, tremble the most violently. He’s good enough in bed to hit it first try. “…good…?”

Illumi tries to speak, but all that comes out are incoherent _ah_ s and _mm_ s and _ngh_ s. Hisoka feels every single one of them reverberating through his chest, pressed close as he is to Illumi’s own. Hisoka’s self-control is greater than most (not greater than Illumi’s, though), but he can already feel himself about to spill. It doesn’t surprise him much, since he’s been denied the pleasure of coming for a long time now.

Illumi moans beneath him, just a constant stream of mumbles and half-words in between ragged breathes. Hisoka can feel himself getting wilder, his affections growing in intensity to the point of bursting at the seams. He’s pretty sure he’s leaking into Illumi’s heat, continuous and powerful and not stopping. It almost feels like a dragged-out orgasm, like he will only leak until he’s got nothing else to give to his dear, without the violent explosive force that he’s come to expect of his fucks.

Illumi’s legs wrap tighter around him, thighs tense, muscles coiling.

Hisoka downright _growls_ , moving until he can bite at Illumi’s lips. The assassin returns the favour in kind, in earnest, mind completely gone. Hisoka growls deep and low again, because having Illumi reciprocate like this, so freely, so filthy, so _wild_ , is doing things to him.

And he should have anticipated this, really, because this is _Illumi_ he’s fucking – Illumi, who always gives him tit for tat, who is always there for Hisoka to play with.

An especially vicious thrust of Hisoka’s cock has Illumi moaning into his mouth, tongue wrapping around Hisoka’s. The Magician doesn’t even know if what he can feel around his shoulders are Illumi’s physical arms or his condensed Nen – he doesn’t even care.

Illumi is warm and tender everywhere around his cock, his heat draws Hisoka in each time even deeper than the previous one, and he’s making Hisoka lose his head, his reason, completely.

Hisoka bites at Illumi’s lips until he can feel copper explode. He doesn’t know if it’s his own doing, or Illumi’s earlier attempts at quieting himself. It doesn’t really matter, though. The taste is familiar, comforting in a twisted way. Just like his whole world is.

Just like Illumi is.

The Magician lets out a sound that is more than a groan but not quite a growl, lets his tongue lick the little cuts at Illumi’s lips, feels Illumi chasing Hisoka’s own flavour. It only fuels him further – he slips a hand under Illum’s hips to raise them just enough to slightly change the angle.

“ ** _AH–!_** ” Illumi downright _screams_ into the thick, dark air around them. His grip around Hisoka’s shoulders tightens. “ ** _HISOKA –!_** ” His Nen coalesces, sticks to Hisoka’s bare skin.

“ ** _Dear Illumi…_** ” Hisoka mumbles against Illumi’s throat, pressing the flat of his tongue directly to Illumi’s pulse. “ ** _My dear Illumi…_** ”

Illumi is too gone to have any good verbal retort. He can just let his body do the talking, the explaining, the asking and the begging. He’s up for the taking – or, down to the taking, considering Hisoka is on top of him right now.

His muscles clench, completely out of his control. He tightens, chasing even more feeling, wanting to be fucked even deeper, harder, faster, _Hisoka please–_

Illumi has not spoken a single coherent word in a while, but Hisoka seems to get him just as well. They’re so close that Hisoka cannot take his thrusting to the next level – what for, anyway? There is no next level, Hisoka just fucks hard and fast and deep every single time he fucks.

Illumi loves it, loves the kind of sex that leaves him as spent as marked, sometimes with his partner bleeding profusely onto the sheets, sometimes bleeding himself. For fuck’s sake, he’s leaking red right now, right into Hisoka’s mouth, and he can feel Hisoka leak white deep inside him, and he’s close, and he wants to come, and it’s not enough, but it is almost enough, and he’s screaming, and–

Illumi shouts out his appreciation, his love, lets himself raise and fall, trusts Hisoka to catch him.

Hisoka leaks more profusely while Illumi comes, fuelled by the new sensations and the new pressure around his cock. Perhaps much more remarkably, Hisoka doesn’t disappoint Illumi’s expectations; he keeps rocking his hips back and forth, keeps forcing Illumi to come and come and come – chases his own release – and – and – _and–!_

“ ** _ILLUMI!!_** ”

Illumi holds Hisoka close, feeling something amiss washing over his heart. His dark Nen clings to Hisoka even more. Hisoka falls limp on top of him, his weight enough to cut Illumi’s breathing completely. But Illumi doesn’t complain. He _likes_ to feel this.

“Illumi…” Hisoka whines, like he tends to do after coming himself spent. “My dear Illumi…”

“You’re heavy.” Illumi retorts. Now that he’s come, he might still be flushed and dirty and _so fucking full_ , but his steady and monotone voice is back. “Don’t move.”

“I won’t~” Hisoka licks at Illumi’s neck, taking advantage of how he’s pressed close and intimate against Illumi. “You’re going to be the death of me one day, though~”

If this is Hisoka’s twisted idea of pillow-talk, Illumi certainly cares about what he’s saying, because a spent Hisoka is an inebriated Hisoka, and he will now say things that he would usually _never_ say.

“Only I can be the death of you.” Illumi’s touch turns possessive. “And only you can be the death of me.”

Hisoka smiles his twisted smirk, licks at Illumi’s marked neck once more.

“My dear Illumi… do you want to get married?”

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, writing this kinda thing in public spaces is… interesting, to say the least.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this long-ass filth, it’s 54 FUCKING PAGES LONG. If you did, please leave me some feedback, I'd love to read them even if they're just key-smashes or feelings-dumpsters!


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